Figment (Of You)
by Guns and Illusions
Summary: Ara has led a difficult life, to say the least. Trying to recover from the damage done to her, she paints out the nightmares that haunt her constantly. But when she meets Loki - beautiful, damaged and just as haunted as her, not to mention a powerful God, everything changes...
1. The Crater

**Hey guys, it's ****_Illusions_**** from... Guns and Illusions! This is my first Loki fanfic. Actually, it's my first fanfic in general. I've been waiting so long to write one of these, and I finally sat down and did it (after the pleading and begging from ****_Guns_****) ! I also wanted to let you know, this story happens after the movie Thor but before the movie The Avengers. Thanks. Hope you guys enjoy! :)**

**Rating: T **(For mild language.)

**Standard Disclaimer:** I do not own Loki. Though I wish I did.

* * *

Ara drove down the dusty road, her fingers tight on the wheel. This was probably the thousandth time she'd driven down the uneven, gravelly path, but it was as scary as ever. Technically this wasn't really a road, and driving on non-paved ground made Ara nervous. Evergreen trees lined the path, the low sun causing them to cast unearthly shadows against the ground. Ara gritted her teeth as her truck suddenly dipped down, the bumper almost hitting the earth before coming straight up again.

"What the hell?" Ara stopped the car. To her left, a giant hole had opened in the earth. It almost looked like a crater, the earth caving into a flat, pie tin shape. This hadn't been here the day before. Ara came to this forest all the time, enough times to know that this crater had never existed before today. She'd came into the forest for a reason, and she knew if she wasted any more time she'd miss her opportunity, but curiousity got the better of her. Opening the rusty truck door, she hopped out onto the gravelly road, not bothering to shut it behind her. The crater-like thing was huge, at least one hundred yards in diameter. It started a little ways off from the road, and there were broken trees scattered around the edges and inside it.

Ara walked deftly to the border of the huge hole, standing right on the edge. It was only a few yards deep, and if she fell into it she'd easily be able to climb out.

What was this thing? She stared in fascination. Whatever had caused it had been huge- and heavy. It had cracked trees right from their trunks and sent them toppling to the earth. Shouldn't there be a meteor or something? Ara peered around, but there was nothing in sight that could have caused the gaping hole. It was simply there.

Ara began to walk along the edge, placing her heel to her toes and walking with her arms out. She wasn't sure why, but this crater deeply fascinated her. She'd come into the forest to paint the sunset-she had her canvas, paints, and tools in the car- but she felt a strong urge to paint this hole instead. It wouldn't be half as interesting as a forest sunset; certainly no one would buy it. All the same, however, Ara felt the familiar pulsing in her head, knowing she wouldn't be calm until she'd at least sketched the thing onto paper.

Skimming the sight, she tried to picture how best to present the huge thing. Her eyes passed over the trees that had survived whatever caused the hole, standing happily unbroken around the area. The shadows were deep and black, almost dangerous. Ara's hands itched to move as she observed this, her eyes flitting over the gray-black areas. It was so dark, inky black... Ara blinked. There was a man standing beside a tree. He was wearing black, blending into the shadows. And he was bleeding.

"Hello?" Ara stepped away from the hole in his direction, the crater instantly forgotten. Seeing he wasn't responding, she began to run towards him. "Excuse me? Are you all right? Sir?"

The man either didn't hear her or ignored her, his face turned away. Ara stopped a few feet behind him. His jacket was black, ripped, and torn. She could see the side of his face, as well as the gushing red cuts that ran down his temples. Bruises covered almost his entire cheek, blue-black in the shadows.

"Holy shit," Ara whispered.

He still wasn't responding. Ara figured he was in shock from whatever he'd just been through. She carefully placed her hand on his shoulder. "Sir?"

At her touch he turned, shaking her hand off his shoulder. His face fully turned to her; Ara could see the extent of the damage. His lip was split and bleeding, and a gash ran across his forehead. He eyed her warily.

"Um." Ara let out a shaky breath. "Are you…okay? Oh, that was a stupid question. I mean, can I, like, help…" she trailed off, seeing the man wasn't focused on her. His gaze passed through her, staring instead at the crater. "Oh, uh," she mumbled, turning to look at it again."It's… quite big, isn't it? I wonder what caused it? Oh, what am I doing. You're bleeding. I mean, you probably know that… I can take you to a hospital. If you need me to."

He turned his eyes to her, and Ara flushed, realizing how flustered she sounded. The man just stared at her, his eyes blank.

His eyes… they were green. Almost shockingly green. Ara blinked.

"A hospital."

Ara jumped, wakened from her momentary reverie."So… you do speak," she smiled. "Yes. I mean, you look like you need help.

The man blinked. "No, I don't need to go to a hospital. I'm fine."

Ara almost laughed aloud. "Sir, you are definitely not fine. Come on, my truck is over there. I mean, unless you have your own car, though I didn't see one. I'll come with you though… you don't really look like you're in driving condition. Rosehill is just a few minutes away.

"Rosehill?" the man asked. Ara noticed he had an accent- British, but slightly subdued, as if he'd spent quite a bit of time in America already.

"The nearest hospital," Ara said in answer to his question. "It's about ten minutes from here. Do you have a car?"

"No."

"Then come on, I'll take you."

"I don't need to go to a hospital," the man insisted.

"Well, you need help," Ara said, slightly annoyed. "Come on, my truck is just over here." She turned on her heel and began to walk in the direction of her truck. The man didn't follow. Sighing, Ara stopped and turned back. "Okay, look," she said. "I'm not leaving you alone in the woods. If you don't want to go to a hospital, at least let me take you to my place. I can clean up the blood and give you some Tylenol or something."

The man considered for a moment. "Alright," he said finally.

Ara turned towards her car, walking at a more brisk pace. The man, however, turned and began to walk towards the crater.

"What are you doing? Ara called. "The truck is over there."

The man ignored her, and hopped down into the crater. He walked to the middle, and reached to the ground. Sighing slightly, he picked up something from the dusty earth. Ara stood at the edge of the hole, eyebrows raised. Whatever he'd picked up appeared to be a sort of green fabric, a garment of some sort.

"Alright," Ara muttered. "Um. Can we go…? Oh, okay."

The man had picked something else up from the crater- a large spear, reminiscent, Ara thought, of something out of a movie. Even from where Ara was standing, though, she could see it was real… and dangerous.

Apparently finished with his crater-dig, the man climbed back out from the crater, and walked over to stand beside her. Ara stared at the spear and then back at him, hoping for an explanation, but once again, he bluntly ignored her.

Sighing, and slightly exasperated, Ara turned for her truck again, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

The ride back to Ara's apartment was silent. Ara didn't like to listen to the radio during a drive, and the man didn't seem to be one for conversation.

"So…" she'd said cheerfully, about two minutes into the drive. "What's your name? Mine's Ara."

The man let out a curse under his breath as the truck lurched dangerously forwards before saying, "Loki."

"Cool. I've never heard that name before," Ara said, smiling. "I mean, of course, there's that god- Norse, I believe? His name's Loki, but I mean, I've never met a _person_ with that name before."

He didn't reply. Not even a nod. After a few other failed attempts to start a conversation, Ara gave up, instead glancing wearily at the spear resting in Loki's lap every few minutes. He didn't provide any further explanation on where it came from or why he had it, despite her furtive, pointed looks.

Finally pulling into her parking spot at her apartment building, Ara opened the truck door, waiting patiently as Loki climbed out from the car. Was it just her…or had his bruises faded slightly…?

"Well?" Loki asked quietly, breaking her from her stare.

It must be the light. "Right," she said quickly. "We're on the top floor. You're in for a bit of a climb." Entering the building, Ara led him to the stairs, ignoring the weird looks from the property manager, who was standing behind the front doors. Her room was six floors up, but Loki didn't complain. In fact, once they reached the top, he didn't even look slightly winded. Despite the few people Ara had ever escorted up these stairs, Ara could gladly say he was the first to not even mention the climb once they reached her room.

Ara never expected company, but she kept her apartment clean, and for once she was glad. She had a man in her home, and even if it was a strange, spear wielding man, Ara felt slightly self-conscious.

Entering the room, Ara peeled her coat from her shoulders and hung it up, gesturing for Loki to do the same before disappearing into the kitchen to get some Tylenol. When she came back out, Loki was still standing at the door, his shoes still on, though his jacket was tucked beneath his arm.

"Oh, you can come in," Ara said quickly. "Just take your shoes off." He watched her for a few moments before peeling a pair of black, not to mention expensive-looking, boots off of his feet. He stepped onto the carpet, keeping his jacket tightly secured in his grip.

"You can come into the kitchen," Ara said, feeling slightly awkward. He followed her into the tiled kitchen, sitting down in her offered chair. Ara stood for a few moments, trying to decide what to do.

"You know what," she said finally, "You're too covered in blood for me to do anything. I think you should take a shower first before I try to fix you up."

It took a while to convince him, but realizing she wasn't going to give in, he agreed. Ara gathered some clean clothes, left over from her last ex that sort of looked like they might fit. It was awkward having him shower in her house, but Ara figured she was helping someone, so what the hell. While he showered, she began to sketch the crater, giving in to the itching temptation to do so. She'd been feeling it since they'd started the drive.

She had just finished shading and contouring the hole when Loki appeared from her bathroom, hair wet and shirtless.

Ara didn't bother to hide her staring. He probably got this all the time. The dust that had covered his hair had washed off, revealing black waves that reached just past his ears. And he was tall. Ara wasn't sure why she hadn't noticed this earlier, but he was easily six foot. His looks- lean, with almost a demeaning feel, wasn't the only reason Ara stared. If she'd thought the bruises had cleared in the parking lot, they were most definitely lighter now. The dark, inky marks that had covered his face were now paler, almost a green-yellow. The cuts, cleared of blood, were already scabbed over.

There was green-yellow bruising across his chest, and from what Ara could see, his back too, that she hadn't seen before. Despite the obvious, more extensive bruising that was now revealed; it was a definite improvement from the hellish sight she'd been met with earlier.

Ara swallowed, feeling fear building itself in the back of her suddenly sticky throat. This wasn't natural. Bruises didn't heal themselves within the hour.

He was aware of her shock. It was clear, the way he stared at her, some deeper torment or meaning passing between them. There was silence for a moment, quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"What are you?" Ara whispered, horrified.

She gripped the counter behind her, unable to keep her eyes away from his face.

"I'm Loki," he said simply, running his hands through his hair.

"You're Loki…" Ara closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath. She knew what he was. In fact, she was certain. What had she said to him in the car earlier? "Loki," she said again, "Norse God of Mischief?"

He nodded.

"Loki… Thor, the God of Thunder's brother?"

He nodded again, his bright eyes never straying from her face.

"Loki. Immortal. Asgardian Prince."

He smiled sadly. "I told you, I didn't need a hospital."

Ara let out a breathy laugh. She ignored the waves of shock spreading from her toes up to the tips of her fingers, and managed to say, "Get out of my house."


	2. Annual Vacations

Loki didn't move. He stared at her, his eyes still blank. Ara pressed her fingers against the counter behind her, eyes narrowed. After a few tense seconds without a response, she spoke louder. "I said, get _out_." She wasn't sure why she was so certain, so confident in her request. Her voice didn't even quaver. She watched as he paused, tapping his fingers against the wooden kitchen table, eyes on her. Finally, he reached across it, his wrist sliding slowly across the wooden boards.

With a start, Ara realized he was grabbing the spear he had picked up from the crater in the woods. He'd put it down on the kitchen table along with his outerwear when Ara asked him to sit. And now he held it firmly in his hands, weighing it from left to right. From up close, Ara could suddenly see the danger the spear held, sharp and silver and covered in rusty blood.

Ara's mouth opened in sudden fear. She was stupid to be so rude to him. He was a God. He could hurt her with that thing. He could kill her. Just as she was about to apologize, offer to let him stay, he looked up from the spear, meeting her eyes.

"Okay," he said quietly.

"W-What?" Ara whispered. She shook, blinking rapidly, the apology on the tip of her tongue.

"Okay, I'll get out." He paused for a moment before letting the spear rest at his side, pointed towards the ground. His eyes, green, and ultimately, beautiful, stared into hers. With sudden decisiveness, he broke eye contact and strode past her, grabbing his leather jacket and clothing from the table as he went. Reaching the door, he pulled on his boots and slipped on his jacket without bothering to put his shirt on first. Turning to her, Ara could see the sudden pain, almost expectant realization in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ara," he said quietly. "I was never going to hurt you. I'm sorry, for whatever I did." Then, without another word, he opened the door and stepped out, closing it softly behind him.

Ara hadn't moved from the counter. She let out a deep breath, sinking to her knees, eyes on the spot where he'd stood. What had she just done?

What had _he_ just done?

Whenever Ara was flustered, she drew. Or painted. Or sketched. Anything to calm her nerves. Ara stumbled out of the kitchen into the hallway, ignoring the buzzing fear climbing into her throat. She knew it was a stupid thing to do, to be painting right after she'd offended a freaking _God,_ but it was her coping mechanism. And right now, she needed coping. Reaching a door in the hallway, she turned the knob and pushed herself into the room, her art studio. She closed the door behind her and ran to her easel, squeezing paints onto her palette as she did. Desperately, she reached for her paintbrushes and began to the throw the colors onto her blank canvas, almost panting with ecstasy.

When she'd finished her painting, it didn't make her feel any better. The swirled colors on the canvas depicted Loki, his eyes bright and green, his mouth set in a grim, taunting smile. Another painting Ara didn't even remember doing, yet she'd just been smearing those green eyes onto the canvas a moment ago. With a sharp scream, Ara grabbed the wet canvas and turned it over, knowing she'd smeared the wet paint all over the easel behind it.

Her adrenaline rush was suddenly over. Ara sighed, laying her forehead against the back of the canvas, wondering what in the world she was thinking. She'd nearly just gotten herself killed. And Loki existed. Just that thought alone was enough to make Ara's head spin. She let her paintbrush drop to the floor, her eyes wandering her art studio tiredly. Ghostly half finished paintings and angry sketches lay across the floors and walls, showing countless hours of work. The sun had set, now. It was probably almost nine o'clock.

Ara pushed the door to her studio open again, walked across the hall, and opened the door to her bedroom. She'd gotten paint all over herself during her sudden panic attack. Groaning at the mess she'd made of herself, Ara stripped down and threw herself into bed, completely nude.

She would forget about him. That's how she'd always dealt with traumatic experiences in the past. Shove them somewhere in the cellar of her mind, shut the door and lock it, and walk away. She would forget the Asgardian Prince, and go on living her life. In fact, she would go back to the forest tomorrow to paint the sunset just as she'd intended today.

For some reason, this train of thought pleased Ara immensely. "A God can't disrupt my life," Ara whispered to herself. "I can move past this. I can forget him. He's gone. I made him leave. He's _gone_."

Finally content, Ara pulled the covers up over her head and buried her face in her pillow, ready to sleep.

Ara had always had a tendency to ignore important things. So the next morning, she took a shower, scraping the dried paint from her body, and slipped into regular clothing, not once dwelling on the fact that a God had been in her home the night before. She ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, and applied her make up almost mechanically, before determinedly marching downstairs and getting into her truck. There was no sign of Loki anywhere; it helped her to tell herself she'd imagined the whole thing. Perhaps he'd never existed at all, she told herself. She drove into the forest without a hitch, right past the crater, and stopped in the clearing, ready to paint the forest sunset.

It was only then she realized it was eight o'clock in the morning.

Ara painted the forest anyways, because she needed something to keep her mind off Loki. Subconsciously, he was there in the back of her mind, but she focused on mixing the colors and ignored him.

She had gotten back to the apartment before lunchtime, and Loki was still nowhere in sight. Grabbing her finished forest painting from the truck, she marched purposefully up to the front doors. Her property manager, Mr. Bishop, was standing there, as usual, but this time he stopped her before she got in.

"Miss Ara," he said quickly, before she could get to the stairs.

"Yes?" Her voice was flat.

"I don't know how else to say this… but your rent is two months overdue. I need the money. Now." He tapped his fingers impatiently against his thigh.

Ara froze. In the excitement of last night, she'd forgotten all about her rent. It had all seemed so small after meeting Loki. She'd meant to go into the market yesterday to try and sell some of her artwork, but it had been closed and she hadn't bothered to find another way to get the money.

"Um," Ara gulped. "Uh, I have, let me see… here. A…a hundred dollars cash." She fumbled with her purse, dropping the forest painting. "I… I don't have the rest," she said quickly, picking up the painting from the ground. "Not right now. Just…just give me another week or two." The next flea market wouldn't be until next Sunday, when she could next try and sell.

Mr. Bishop sighed. "Miss Ara, this isn't even a fraction of what you owe. I need over another two thousand dollars."

Ara bit her lip nervously. "I know, I know. I'm dreadfully sorry. Look, I can get you another thousand by tomorrow morning." If she had that much in her bank account…Ara was well aware that she was pretty much flat-out broke. "I just, I really need more time. Please." She could feel the panic creeping into her voice.

Mr. Bishop shook his head. "That's what you said last week, Miss Ara. You haven't exactly been consistent with your payments, either. I'm sorry, but if you can't get me the money by tomorrow morning, I'm going to have to call the property owner and ask permission to, uh, vacate your apartment."

It took Ara a moment to register this. "You mean you'll kick me out?" Her eyes went wide with realization and fear.

Mr. Bishop shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I mean, yes. You're not proving to be a reliable tenant, Miss Ara." He coughed. "And we have others lined up that seem to be far more qualified."

"Please, Mr. Bishop," Ara whispered. "A week. That's all I need."

"As I said before, I need the money by tomorrow-"

He was cut off as the door opened. Ara turned, not sure if she should be happy or angry at this sudden interruption, but her frantic thoughts were stopped when she saw who it was.

Loki.

She'd almost convinced herself this morning that he wasn't real. Yet there he stood, at the door, in his ragged leather jacket and boots, the spear tucked behind him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" his voice was, as always, quiet, but it held some kind of seductive venom behind it. His eyes met hers as he said it, and something clicked in Ara. If she wanted a way out of this, she was going to have to trust him.

"Oh, yes… darling," she didn't pause as she said it. She'd always been a good liar. "I was just telling Mr. Bishop I need another week on my rent."

"Who is this?" Mr. Bishop asked, eyeing Loki. His voice was filled with something that sounded like a mix of suspicion and fear.

"I'm her boyfriend," Loki said without hesitation, not bothering to look at Ara as he said it. "And she's right. _We _need another week on the rent."

Ara didn't bother to wonder at why he was helping her. She just knew she needed it. She watched as Mr. Bishop spluttered, "But, now, you see-"

"I said," Loki interrupted, his eyes suddenly burning, "We need another _week_." Ara watched in fascination as Mr. Bishop froze. She could see the slight wave Loki made with his fingers, and the shadow that passed over Mr. Bishop's eyes. The whole time, Loki never broke eye contact with him. There was a pause.

"Why, yes, of course," Mr. Bishop suddenly quipped, smiling. "Of course. You'd best be on your way then, Miss Ara." He gave a half bow in Loki's direction, then turned on his heel and walked away.

Ara blinked. Something big had just happened. Ara felt as if she should be in shock.

Instead, she followed Mr. Bishop's advice. She turned to the stairs, not looking at or acknowledging Loki as she went. There was silence behind her. It made Ara pause, and she felt the guilt sweep over her. He'd just helped her, and she was ignoring him. She'd kicked him out the evening before and he'd just aided in her in escaping a situation that could've ended with her homeless. Even if he was a scary God with a freaky spear, Ara knew she was being stubborn and unfair. He'd never even hurt her and she was acting like he was a monster. Suddenly embarrassed at her childish behavior, she turned back.

"Well, come on, then," she muttered in Loki's direction, feeling her cheeks burn.

"Come on where?" Loki practically purred. Ara clenched her fist. Of course he noticed her embarrassment. He'd probably helped her just to see her humiliation.

"To the apartment," she said through gritted teeth. "I don't know why you helped me, but I owe you one, now. And since I kicked you out last night, I guess inviting you over is the first step in repaying you."

Loki smiled almost approvingly, and Ara could see the smirk in his eyes. "Okay," he said, his voice even.

Ara spun around again and continued up the stairs, ignoring the temptation to stomp her feet. Once she reached her door, she jammed the key into the lock ferociously, trying to ignore how foolish she looked. Even now, she couldn't stop acting like a child. When the door finally opened, Loki reached past her to the couch, which sat stoically beside the door. Ara blinked, realizing he was grabbing his green garment thing. He'd left it on the couch the night before. Ara sighed. Even if he hadn't come back, she would've seen it eventually, and all her hard work to pretend _he'd _never happened would've gone down the drain.

For some reason this irked Ara, and she had to fight to not show it. She peeled off her jacket and shoes before stalking into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, watching Loki out of the corner of her eye. He was shaking out the green thing, which had been so covered in dirt and dust she hadn't realized how green it had really been. The once dull and dusty piece of fabric was suddenly transformed into a bright, beautiful green cape. It could touch the ground when Loki held it to his shoulders, and the brilliant hue matched his eyes.

"A cape?" Ara couldn't stop herself from snorting.

"Hmm," Loki answered, not bothering to explain further.

"You really don't like talking, do you?" Ara muttered under her breath, quiet enough so he couldn't hear.

"No, not really," Loki answered loudly.

Ara sighed. Well, apparently he had super hearing. "I'm guessing you don't have a place to stay?" It was a half-hearted question, since she was pretty certain of the answer.

"No," Loki replied, smiling. "I don't come to Earth for annual vacations or anything, so I didn't bother to buy a cottage here." The sarcasm in his voice was so palpable that Ara couldn't help but sigh. Loki draped the cape back over the couch, grinning. "In fact," he added, almost to himself, "I haven't been to Earth in some thousand years or so."

Ara ignored his last sentence and carried on her questioning. "So… why don't you go back to Asgard?"

She was pretty sure she already knew this, too. "I can't," Loki purred. "I don't know how." He paused for a moment. "But also I don't want to," he added, almost like an afterthought.

"So you need a place to stay," Ara sighed, once again ignoring his last sentence.

"Mmm hmm," Loki smiled, already knowing what she was going to say next.

Ara made a face. "Fine. You can stay here. I have an extra bedroom. But only because you helped me, okay?"

Loki laughed, and Ara knew full well this outcome was probably his plan from the moment he stepped between Mr. Bishop and her.

"Of course you need a place to stay," she muttered to herself. "And now I'm stuck with the God of Mischief under _my_ roof."


	3. Insane

Ara sat Loki down at her table, eyeing him warily. He hadn't changed since he'd left, except for putting his shirt back on. The bruises and cuts were, as Ara had expected, completely gone, leaving smooth pale skin. She opened her refrigerator, intending to make lunch for the two of them, but all she had was some sad, frozen untouched pasta. Ara never cooked; she only stocked her fridge with frozen dinners and pop. Ara grabbed the pasta and slammed the door shut, hoping Loki hadn't seen the stacks of Coke and embarrassing amount of Swanson dinners. Just as he'd seemed to have super hearing, however, his eyes seemed to catch everything.

"You don't have to hide that from me, Ara," he said, looking completely sincere. "I would've found out eventually, seeing as I'm staying here." He drummed his fingers against the table as he said it.

"Yah, I know," Ara muttered. "But I can at least try to appear as if I can take care of myself. I don't need you knowing I can't properly feed myself after discovering I can't even pay my rent." Ara poured the pasta into some boiling water, refusing to meet Loki's eyes. He chuckled, but didn't comment further.

After their silent lunch, Ara stood up again, motioning for Loki to do the same. "I'll give you the tour then, and you can throw your…" she glanced at his spear, "stuff… into the spare bedroom. She walked down the hallway, and stopped at the first door. "This is the bathroom. It's all yours, since I have my own. This," she said, continuing down the hall, "Is your room. I guess it's all yours too." Moving to the next door, she turned to look him in the eye. "This is my room. You're not allowed in here. Ever. And that," she added, pointing to the door of her art studio, "Is my other room." She walked over and placed her hands against the door, pushing it fully closed. "You're not allowed in here either. Never."

She walked back the other way, into the kitchen. "Kitchen, living room. There's the TV. You're free to watch whatever you want, I guess." Finished, she motioned to his stuff, still sitting on the kitchen table. "You can go get settled in. I'm going into my room. Don't bother me. You can watch TV, or do whatever, as long as you don't make a mess."

Loki had remained silent, but he now interrupted her. "You are quite the drill seargent, aren't you?" his eyes were twinkling.

"Sure. If you say so," Ara muttered.

"Anyway," Loki continued, "I've never used a 'TeeVee' before. You're going to have to show me how." Ara eyed him warily, but then led him into the living room, giving him some brief instructions on how to use the remote. Once he was satisfied, she walked to her art studio, shutting herself in and Loki out.

Ara wasn't sure how this was going to work. She didn't really have a problem with him staying, but she would have to drag him everywhere whenever she went out. She didn't trust him enough to stay in her house by himself. Ara grabbed her paints and canvases, starting a new painting as she tried to work out everything in her head. She had no idea how long Mr. Bishop's momentary lapse would last, but if he started asking for the money again, she would need Loki. So she would keep him here until she paid off her rent; give him a place to stay, food, and whatever else he required. And then, Ara figured, her debt to him would be paid and she would feel okay making him leave again.

She'd come into her art studio intending to finish some paintings so she could sell them, but her mind had wandered, and now she'd somehow transformed her blank canvas into another image of Loki. This time she had painted him swathed in shadows, his eyes cutting through the dark, filled with mistrust and anger. Sighing, Ara turned the canvas over, figuring she wasn't going to get any work done while her mind was in this state. She stripped off her paint shirt and rushed out of the art studio, marching into the living room with a new purpose in her mind. Loki was sprawled across the couch, legs crossed on one end, his hand behind his head on the other, mindlessly channel surfing.

"This is so pointless," he said when she came in, not looking up. "Is this what you do on Earth? Spend your time staring at a blinking screen?" He turned the TV off with a click, throwing the remote down onto her coffee table. Sighing, he sat up, running his hands through his hair.

Ara ignored his questions, instead throwing one of his boots at him, which he caught midair without even bothering to look up. Ara sighed. She hadn't really intended to hit him, but it annoyed her that he could just catch in while still blatantly ignoring her.

"Put them on," she said loudly. "We're going out."

"Out?" he asked, finally meeting her eyes. "Out where?"

"To get you some clothes," she said, grabbing her coat. "You look ridiculous."

"Do I?" He asked, sounding amused. "You Midgardians aren't into the whole cape thing?" He slipped on his boots as he said it, and stood up, waiting as she slipped on her shoes.

"Not really," Ara shrugged. "Though the leather jacket is kind of hot."

He actually laughed aloud this time, his eyes dancing. "Why, thank you," he grinned, and followed her out the door.

Ara took him to the nearest mall, and waited as he picked out some clothes. Once he was finished, they got into her truck, and Ara found herself driving them back to the forest instead of her apartment. Loki hadn't said much, and he didn't question her when they began down the rocky path into the woods. To be completely honest, Ara had no idea what she was doing. She was an instincts kind of girl, so she let her hands guide the wheel and take her into the forest, stopping beside the crater.

"Come on," she said to Loki, once they were parked. "I think…" She rubbed her eyes, trying to decide the real reason why she was here. "I need to see it again."

He raised his eyebrows, but followed her out of the truck as she stepped across the road and hopped down into the hole. He stood at the edge of the crater, watching as she walked cautiously around, her eyes sweeping over the dusty, uneven ground.

"Did you make this?" she asked, turning to Loki.

"The crater? I believe so," he said, coming to stand closer to the edge. "Gods tend to make dramatic appearances."

"So, what?" Ara asked, speaking her thought out loud. "You just… fell onto Earth and created this…thing? Is that where you got your bruises? And the cuts? During your fall?"

"Once again, I believe so," Loki shrugged, glancing around the area. "I don't really remember."

Ara blinked disbelievingly. "I think it would be pretty hard to forget creating this," she muttered, looking around at the monstrous hole. "But okay." Her eyes caught something, and she walked over to it, leaning down. It was a flat golden rectangle, buried half in the dirt. Ara scooped in out, examining it. The thing was heavy, and looked valuable. It almost had the appearance that it'd been meant for some sort of armor.

"This yours?" she called to Loki, holding up the golden plate. He was facing the trees, and spun around at her voice.

His eyes swept over the rectangle. "Yup," he answered.

"What is it?" Ara lowered it and held the thing in her hands so she could observe it more closely. It was probably a ten inches long and about five inches wide. Intricate patterns were molded in, snake like figures and tiny weaving, and Ara gently brushed her fingers over it, removing some dust.

"Spaulder," Loki answered, hopping down into the hole to stand beside her. "For my shoulder." He took it from her, demonstrating where it would go. "It must've fallen off when I fell." Ara blinked, and took it back from him, weighing it in her hands.

"It's really heavy," she said, trying to imagine wearing it on her shoulder.

"Yes, it is," Loki agreed. "At least, for you. For me, it's not so bad." He grinned. "It's pure gold, you know."

"Gold?" Ara asked. "Then it's worth… a lot. This thing is huge. So you use it to protect your shoulder? Like a piece of armor?"

"Hmm," Loki replied. "In Asgard, we tend to be a bit extravagant with armor, hence the pure gold. But it wasn't really that useful. I don't need it. You can have it, if you want."

Ara laughed. "What would I do with it? I don't need to protect my shoulder any more then you do. Besides, it would be weird if I kept it. It's yours." She held it out to hand it to him, but he shook his head.

"I don't mean you would have it to keep it. You said it yourself; it's probably worth a lot here on Earth. And you need the money, don't you?" He looked her fully in the eyes as he said it, seeming completely sincere.

Ara rolled back and forth on her toes, feeling awkward. "Well, I mean, yes, but…" She looked away. She wanted so badly to say yes, and just take it. It would solve her current rent problem, and leave her with money left over, but she knew it would mean another debt owed to Loki. She hadn't even paid off the last one.

"Honestly Ara, take it," he smiled, seeing her indecisiveness.

She twisted her mouth up in a grimace, but then sighed and gave in. He was right. She needed the money. She would find a way to pay him off… somehow.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said as they climbed out of the crater back towards the truck. It was awkward climbing out of the crater with the spaulder, and she scrambled to catch up to him.

"Of course," Loki replied, waiting for her. "Can I tell you a lie?"

Ara gave him a face and he cracked a smile. Ara sighed, but asked her question anyways. "What did you do? To Mr. Bishop, I mean. Can you… control people's minds or something?"

"I can read them," Loki said, not looking at her. "Get inside people's minds. If they're weak enough, I can play with them a bit. Not everyone, though. But I can read thoughts, if I need to."

Ara stopped, feeling instantly invaded. Loki turned back towards her, sensing her immediate distrust, and smiled grimly.

"Not yours, though. I can't even get a gist of what you're thinking, and I can't figure out why. That's why I came with you, yesterday. I wanted to see what you were, why I couldn't… get inside your head. But I still haven't figured it out." He reached the truck door and pulled it open, waiting as she got in.

"Is that why you came back?" Ara asked, trying to hide her relief. Knowing someone could get inside your head was freaky, and she was glad she at least had that privacy. "Today, when you helped me. Is that why? Because you still want to figure me out?"

"Partly. But I also just needed a place to stay," Loki admitted as they pulled into reverse. "Tell me," he added as Ara rolled down the window, "Is there anything different about your brain that might explain why?"

"What, you mean like ADD or ADHD?" Ara asked, concentrating on the road ahead of her.

"Sure," Loki shrugged, "whatever that means."

"Well, no, I don't," Ara said, turning to look at him. "But I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress about three year ago. I'm taking pills right now." She turned back to the road, hands tightening on the wheels.

"Post-Traumatic Stress?" Loki asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Yah. It's kinda like when something bad happens to you and you kinda go insane afterwards."

Loki glanced at her with his eyebrows raised. "Insane?"

"Hmm," Ara answered. "In my case, I started having really bad nightmares… and I started hallucinating. Seeing the people I feared most and that shit." Reaching the real road, Ara loosened her grip, relaxing as they rolled onto paved ground. "I used to have nightmares every night. But I'm taking pills now, so it's not so bad, and the hallucinations have stopped." She snorted.

Loki's eyebrows were still raised. "Interesting…" he said after a moment, "But I don't think that's the reason."

"Probably not," Ara said. "But I could always take you to the insane asylum so you can test that theory. They probably see worse things than me, not to mention a wackload more pills. You could test your mind control on them and they'd be too crazy and zonked to notice." She glanced at Loki. His eyes were open in a horrified stare. "Chill out," Ara laughed. "I was just kidding."

Loki let out a large breath, turning towards the window. "Alright then."

Ara couldn't help but laugh again. Then, turning serious, she coughed, feeling suddenly awkward.

"Listen," she started, her eyes fixed on the road. "I don't know how long you're going to stay. I'm not going to tell you to leave, and I'm not going to ask you how you ended up here, 'cuz I'm guessing it's personal. But if we're really going to live together, I need to trust you. So please don't lie to me. As I said, I won't ask you personal questions." Ara swallowed. "And I'd also rather you don't ask _me_ personal questions in return."

Loki considered for a moment. "I'll agree to that," he said evenly. "No lying, no personal questions. As long as you keep up your side of the bargain."

Ara nodded quickly. "No questions, no lying," she agreed. She could feel Loki's eyes on her as she stared at the road. There were so many personal questions she wanted to ask Loki, right on the tip of her tongue. She could see well enough that something had happened to him. The look in his eyes after she kicked him out… It was a look she had sported often during her lowest of lows. She wanted to know everything, but knowing nothing about him was a compromise she was willing to make… as long as in return, he knew nothing about her.


	4. Personal Questions

A/N: Ha! Another chapter done. I decided you guys needed to know a bit more about Ara (I haven't even described what she looks like!) so here it is.

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

Loki's first night was, thankfully, extremely uneventful. After they'd returned to the apartment, Ara ordered in pizza and they ate in front of the TV without much conversation. Ara looked up a few places that might buy a gold spaulder, and then retreated into her art studio once more, leaving Loki at the television screen. Feverishly working, she managed to finish another painting, hopefully sellable. Once finished, she got ready for bed and returned to the living room to tell Loki she was headed off to sleep. The TV was turned off, however, and Loki wasn't sitting on the couch as she'd expected.

She'd found him on his bed, eyes closed, shirt off, his hands behind his head with the door open.

"Hey," she said, tapping her knuckles against the doorway. Loki's eyes popped open.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to bed now. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Oh. Okay," he replied, closing his eyes again.

Ara paused at the doorway, watching his unmoving body before retreating to her room.

The next morning, Ara woke from a hellish nightmare. She was drenched in cold sweat, and she awoke gasping. She stumbled from bed, thankful she hadn't awoken screaming. Loki already knew she was crazy, but she didn't need to prove it to him further.

Stepping in front of the mirror, Ara brushed her fingers through her dark hair, which needed washing. Dark circles haunted her eyes, and her skin was pale from lack of sun. Ara let out a sigh, running her hands over her face. She threw her messy hair into a bun and walked out into the kitchen, wondering if she had anything available for breakfast. To her slight surprise, Loki was standing at the kitchen window, a cup of coffee in hand, staring out at the morning city.

"Good morning," he murmured as soon as she stepped into the kitchen.

"How'd you know I was there?" Ara asked, reaching for the pot of coffee. "I didn't even make a sound."

"I'm observant," Loki smiled, turning around.

"Hmm. That how you taught yourself to make coffee? By being observant?"

"No. I was thirsty, and I needed caffeine. So I read the instructions on the coffee pot."

Ara rolled her eyes as she poured herself a cup. "Smartie pants." Sipping it, she added, "You're an early riser." Loki shrugged absentmindedly.

Ara reached up to the cupboards, searching for breakfast, and coming up with a box of cereal. "Want any?" she asked as she poured some into a bowl. "It's Lucky Charms. Sweet stuff. Yummy."

"Sure," Loki shrugged. She passed him a bowl and the cereal box.

"Ok," she announced, as they sat down at the table. "Here's the plan. I'm going to take a shower, and then we're going to go to this gold and silver trader guy to sell the spaulder. He's about half an hour from here. We'll go somewhere for lunch, and then I'm doing my own thing for the rest of the afternoon in my room. So leave me alone while I'm doing that."

Loki took a sip of his coffee before shrugging in agreement.

Ara stared at him distrustfully. "You're awfully compliant, for a scary God," she said finally.

"I have no reason to disagree," Loki replied, looking up. He furrowed his brow, muttering, "Scary?" Ara shrugged, finishing her cereal.

"Whatever you say, as long as you don't cause me any trouble. I'm going to take a shower now, before we leave. You should get ready, too." Ara placed her bowl in the sink. She glanced back at Loki, who was sipping his coffee and staring into blank space. He didn't really need to get ready; she just said it so he would have something to do while she showered. Even after just waking up, he looked perfect, eyes bright and alert, hair smoothed back, dressed as if he was ready to go out. Ara sighed, shaking her head as she hurried into her shower.

Once in, Ara stood under the hot water, wondering at how she was ever going to repay Loki. She could pay off her rent now, which had originally meant she could kick him out, but he was the one who'd helped her to be able to pay it off. So now what? She just let him stay as long as he wanted? Ara sighed, pressing her forehead against the shower wall. She rubbed her hand over her left wrist, where the skin was bumpy and scarred from mutilation. Ara didn't deny she'd once been a cutter. She didn't try to hide the scars. She was certain Loki had taken notice of them, but they'd made a deal. No personal questions. It was difficult to explain to people why she'd once cut, so Ara didn't like talking about it.

It used to be about control for Ara. When she found herself lost in the depths of anger and depression, pain had helped to bring her to the surface. But once she was there, she would realize she was fooling herself. She wasn't in control; otherwise she wouldn't have been driven to hurting herself. Discovering she was wrong had just made her more frustrated with herself, leading to even more self-hate.

Stepping out of the shower, Ara wrapped her towel around herself. She wasn't going to talk to Loki about what caused her PTSD, but ever since he'd appeared, she'd been having weird rolls of emotion, as if the symptoms of it were coming back. He was driving her insane. Was it just that she could see her own hidden pain reflected in his eyes? Or maybe he really could control her mind, and was making her think about these things that she had buried to long ago. Ignoring her troubling thoughts, Ara began to get ready, trying to look presentable.

The 'gold and silver trader guy' was grumpy, to say the least. But after trading the spaulder in, Ara had enough money to pay the next six months worth of rent, so she dealt with him as best she could. Loki had just watched their bickering with an amused expression on his face, once again sporting his torn leather jacket. Ara found herself gritting her teeth to bite back snide comments as she tried to talk to the trader. It was weird, but the need to lash out at someone was suddenly settling in the pit of her stomach.

Lunch was fast food. Ara ran by the local grocery store afterwards, realizing that maybe she should restock her fridge. Grocery shopping irked Ara even more, even though nobody was being nasty to her. As soon as she got back to the apartment, Ara shut herself in her art studio, feeling as if something inside her was about to boil over. She grabbed a canvas without thinking and began swirling the colors, letting her fingers do what they wanted.

"Shit!" Ara shouted once she was done. She covered her mouth quickly, realizing Loki could probably here her. Groaning, she slammed the paintbrush down onto her table, staring at the monstrosity she'd created.

The blended colors depicted a skeletal figure climbing out from what appeared to be a grave, his mouth open in a gasp, his eyes bugged out. The background was flooded in shadows, and the figure's fingers were grasping the edges of the grave, curled in around the mounds of dirt. The effort to pull himself out was written all over his body, every bony muscle taut with tension. The dark colors made it hard to tell, but if you looked closely, you could see it wasn't a grave he was climbing out of.

It was someone's mouth.

Ara let out a curse underneath her breath, but found she felt slightly calmer staring at her gross picture. The urge to scream at someone had passed, her frustration transferred into the image, the anger locked into the layers of paint.

"That," said a voice behind her, "Is absolutely…"

Ara spun around to see Loki by her blackboard, staring at the skeletal figure, his face unreadable.

"Terrifying? Horrible? Disturbing?" Ara snorted, to finish his sentence.

"No," Loki murmured, shaking his head. "It's… quite beautiful, actually."

Ara clenched her jaw, sure he was poking fun, and the fact that he looked completely serious irked her even more. "I thought I told you not to come in here," she hissed, watching as he strolled closer to the painting.

"The door was open," he said breezily. "I needed to ask you a question, so I knocked on the doorframe, but you were so engrossed in your painting you didn't notice me. I was waiting for you to finish so I could ask you, so I took a look around." He began to walk around the room, staring at every grisly painting Ara had done, all of them lined up on the wall, as if they'd been waiting for him.

"Okay," Ara muttered, knowing she couldn't very well tell him off, as he hadn't really done anything wrong. "What's your question, then?"

"It's not important," Loki murmured with his back to her. "These are all so…" He shrugged. "As I said before. Beautiful. I can't think of another word."

Ara laughed drily. "Your definition of beautiful is very different from my definition of beautiful."

Loki turned to her, and the softness and sincerity in his eyes made her pause. "I'm serious, Ara," he said quietly. "I mean, yes, they are terrifying. I don't disagree. But they're so…" he paused, searching for the right word. "… full."

Ara gazed at him wryly, the disbelief written all over her face. Loki rushed to explain. "You can see the richness in them, the anger, the fear, the sadness…" he waved his fingers with each word, trying to make her understand. "It's all laid out, no pretenses, just plain and simple emotion." He shrugged, running his finger along one of the images.

Ara sighed. "Whatever you say."

He lingered at one with a face with the mouth and eyes stapled shut. "Did you paint all of these?" he asked, coming to stand beside her once more.

"Yup," Ara said bluntly. "I told you, I'm totally batshit crazy."

Loki chuckled. "Yes, but you're also very talented." He glanced around. "Is this what you do for a living? You paint?"

"Right now, yes," Ara sighed. She knew he didn't really need any further explanation, but she couldn't help continuing. "I didn't go to university, or college. So I was just doing odd jobs, part-time and stuff. Painting was kind of a side thing. My ex-boyfriend used to live here; we rented out this apartment together. He could afford it, and I made enough to pay about half per month. But then he left, without a warning, and I can't get a hold of him. So I'm stuck paying the full rent until I can find another place that will take me as a tenant. I try to sell my paintings for money, but it was never much of a serious thing, so relying on it fully isn't working out so well." Ara ran her finger along the edge of her canvas bitterly, not sure where this spill of information had come from. She looked up to see Loki staring at her intensely.

"What?" she said, suddenly defensive.

"Why weren't you able to go to college?" he asked quietly.

Ara doubted Loki even knew what a college was, but she shrugged. She'd already told him so much. "Not enough money in the family," she said. He was staring at her. She didn't want to continue, but she felt the words spilling from her mouth. "My mother was pregnant with me at seventeen, and my dad left her before she was even three months pregnant. I don't know why she carried through with the pregnancy, but she did. We were poor, her family pretty much disowned her, and she fell into drink. She had a series of nasty boyfriends that treated me with varying levels of nastiness, and as soon as I was eighteen, I bolted." Ara blinked. She let out a breathy sigh, almost relieved to finally speak the truth. She spread her arms, smiling sadly. "Bring on the judgment."

Loki shook his head. "I have no right to judge you. I just… I wanted to know why you created these." He spread his arms, motioning to the paintings.

Ara laughed. "Most people would rather not know. They see them, and they run as far as they possibly can and forget about me."

"What's this?" Loki asked, walking over to a large shape covered in a white sheet. "May I?" He lifted a corner of the sheet, glancing over at Ara.

Ara shrugged. "You saw everything else, so I guess there's no point in hiding it. Go ahead."

He carefully removed the sheet, revealing a face painted onto a large square canvas. The face was beautiful, with long lashes and full lips, but everything about its expression depicted fear. The eyes were open in distress, the lips parted with shocked horror. The painting wasn't finished, parts of it just barely outlined, some parts blank. The whole thing was painted with a rusty brown color, and there were places where the paint had dropped into the face's eyes and mouth.

"This is…" Loki picked up the palette next to the painting, and rubbed his finger in the residue of the paint that had been used. He lifted it up to the light and watched as the dry flakes crumbled and fell to the floor. "Blood. You painted this with blood?"

Ara came to stand next to him. "Yup. I figured I might as well do something with it when I cut. There was so much of it, so I thought I could use it for something. Otherwise it'd be a waste, you know?"

Loki glanced at her, not sure if she was serious or not. "This is all your blood? There must be at least…" he paused, glancing back at the large canvas. "At least a pint of it on here. And it's not finished. You intend to? Finish it?" He glanced at her, looking slightly worried, knowing if it wasn't done, it meant she wasn't done cutting.

"Yes," Ara answered. "I mean, yes to the first question. It's all my blood. It wasn't done at the same time though. I started it about a year ago, and every time I cut myself, I'd paint a section of it. It forced me to realize what I was doing to myself." She ran her fingers along the face's cheeks, scraping off some dried blood. "I hope I don't finish it. But there are times I have to cut. It's not a choice. And if I have blood, I'll use it."

Loki shook his head in disbelief. "You really are crazy."

Ara shrugged in agreement. "By the way," she remembered as he began to cover the painting with the white sheet, "That question you asked? About why I couldn't go to college? That was a personal question." She looked at him meaningfully. "And we made a deal."

Loki turned to her, eying her warily. "Okay. So I broke our promise." He wrinkled his nose, knowing she had something up her sleeve. "How do you…propose I make it up to you?"

"I propose," Ara started with satisfaction, "that I get to ask _you_ one personal question." A devilish smile lit her face. "A personal question of my choice- and you have to answer truthfully. I think that's only fair. A question for a question. What do you think?"

Loki considered for a moment. "I'll agree to that," he nodded after a moment. "Yes. Okay." He smiled, seeming satisfied. "Actually," he added, as he finished covering the painting, "I have another personal question for you. I already asked you one...so I'm sure you won't mind if I ask another."

"If I answer, then I get to ask you two questions," Ara reminded him, raising his eyebrow. "Two questions asked, two questions owed."

"I know," Loki confirmed.

"Okay then," Ara shrugged. "Go ahead."

"Why keep them?" Loki asked, motioning to the images. "I mean, I don't think you intend to sell them. So why keep them?"

"You mean, why don't I burn them or something?" Ara asked. She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't want to. They're honest." She looked away. "I could pretend all I paint is butterflies and flowers, but that would be a lie. And even if I don't want anyone else to see them, even if _others_ think all I paint is rainbows and happiness, at least I'm honest to myself."

Loki nodded approvingly. "You may be crazy, Ara," he told her, as they walked out of the art studio. "But I think I like it."


	5. Shattered Glass

A/N: Hi guys! Chapter 5 for you! I discovered why I hated the last chapter so much: DIALOGUE. Ugh. I hate writing it. I think I like this chapter slightly better than the last. I just... yah, I didn't like chapter 4. At all. Not sure why I'm telling you guys this. I'll shut up now.

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

The next few days passed in uneventful peacefulness. Without the stress of the rent, Ara could relax a little more, and her strained relationship with Loki had softened a bit since his discovery of the art studio. They spent most days within the apartment, Ara working on paintings and Loki either watching TV or watching her paint. The silence between them had become slightly more comfortable.

Ara's grisly paintings had momentarily stopped, and the newly awakened nightmares had ended just as quickly as they had started. She was still aware of Loki, but she didn't wonder as often when she'd get the chance to kick him out. It was all so calm, and Ara found herself content with Loki's presence.

They were both aware of the two 'personal questions', hanging over them like a shadow. Ara hadn't asked them; she didn't know what to ask. The curiosity was still there, there was still so much she wanted to know about him, but the urgency had passed. It wasn't as important, faded into the background, like so many other things. She would ask when she felt the time was right.

There was a new softness that Ara could suddenly see in Loki. He was...sweet. Ara found herself enjoying being with him rather than alone.

It had come to the point where Ara had decided to trust him. She wasn't going to spill all her deepest, darkest secrets to him, but she no longer worried that he might get angry and stab his spear through her heart while she was sleeping. As a result of this, the night came where she decided she felt safe leaving him in her apartment by himself.

"I have a job interview," Ara explained. "My first in a while. It'd be weird if I dragged you along."

"What kind of job are you applying for?" Loki had asked from the couch.

"Just another part-time thing. Mixing drinks at a bar."

Loki had turned, a playful grin on his face. "You didn't strike me as that type of girl."

Ara shrugged. "It's close by, and the hours are okay. I don't really have much going for me right now, so I'll take what I can."

She left the house around five o'clock that night, telling Loki not to answer the door for anyone else but her and what-not, before closing the apartment door behind her. She took a breath once the door was locked, the knowledge suddenly hitting her that _he_ was inside and she was not. She felt nervousness beginning to grow, doubt began to swirl in her mind. She had no idea what he was capable of, really.

Ara shook her head. She'd made the decision to trust him, and she was going to follow through. She tucked all her fear away and marched determinedly down the hall.

Loki hadn't the slightest idea what to do once Ara had left. Usually she would drop subtle hints, telling him to go leave her alone and watch TV or take a shower. Without her instructions, Loki was suddenly unsure. He considered going into her art studio, where he could stare at her pictures endlessly and not get bored, but he felt as if he shouldn't go in there without her. It was an invasion of her privacy.

Instead he flipped on Ara's laptop, which she'd tried to teach him how to use. He'd spent hours 'Googling' himself, laughing or frowning at how the humans had depicted him. Ara had rolled her eyes, telling him he was being self-centered, which was probably true.

Ara hadn't told him how long she'd be gone. About an hour after she'd left, Loki began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. He closed the laptop, his head pounding. He never got sick on Asgard, but he knew what a headache was. He'd woken up from enough raucous parties with them.

This was different from a hangover, though. Ara didn't own any alcohol, thus Loki hadn't drank any. He twisted his face into a grimace, feeling the pain intensifying. He put the laptop down on the table, walking to his room with his fingers to his forehead.

Lying down on his bed didn't make it any easier, though, and the buzzing beneath his temples only got stronger.

This had happened once before, during his first night on Earth. After Ara had told him to leave, he had wandered down to the nearest hotel, somehow convincing the man at the counter that he had booked a room. The pain had started as soon as he laid down on the hotel bed, the buzzing deep in his skull. He'd woken up in the morning without any memory of what had happened the night before, except for the excruciating pain.

His head had still hurt, though, so much so that he wasn't even sure where he was. He had known he needed help, though, so he went to the only person he could think of.

Ara.

As soon as he had seen her face, he'd felt the pain ebbing away, even though she had glared at him with utter disgust.

Loki hadn't told her about this. Not the pain, or the way seeing her had lifted the buzzing almost immediately. It hadn't happened again, so he'd assumed that it was just a one-time thing, a fluke that had happened and was past.

Yet here he was, lying with his head towards the ceiling, the same pain tormenting him from the inside out, Ara nowhere in sight.

Finally agitated beyond any relief the bed could give him, Loki got up and went into the bathroom, leaning down to splash water on his face. Looking up, he met his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

As soon as his eyes met the ones in his reflection, the pain suddenly left him, leaving him immediately blank of feeling. The reflection's eyes shimmered beneath the bathroom lights. He watched in morbid fascination as his eyes faded from their clear green to almost a scarlet red. The pale skin on his face slowly disappeared, leaving a cold blue that spread like a rash across his skin.

He stared at the mirror, transfixed with his own reflection. He could feel the blankness that the pain had left him with morphing into something else... anger. It spread, hot like a flash of white light beneath his eyes, beneath his skin, itching to get out.

Loki lifted his hand to see it was still it's usual pale color, although the mirror depicted icy blue fingers and wrists.

His reflection suddenly twisted its face into a malicious smile. Loki blinked. He reared back his fist, feeling all the hot anger rolling like a wave inside him before smashing his hand into the glass.

Ara hummed as she walked back up the stairs to her apartment, ecstatic glee spreading from her toes up to the very tips of her ears. She had the job, her first since her ex had left her.

She reached the door and pulled out her key, sure that nothing couldn't destroy her brilliant mood. She had just pushed her key into the lock when she heard something shatter within her apartment.

The sound was enough to break her from her happy daze. She jammed the key as hard as she could into the keyhole, turning it frantically. Panicking when it didn't open, she let out a curse, turning it with all her might and stumbling into the apartment.

"Loki!" she called as she entered the apartment. "Loki, you bastard, where are you?!" She ran down the hallway, seeing that the bathroom door was open.

Loki was standing hunched over, one hand gripping the bathroom sink and the other curled into a fist. He had it raised, and he was staring numbly as red blood trickled over his knuckles. The mirror had been rightly shattered, broken glass spilling into the sink and onto the floor of the bathroom. Ara blinked in shock, pressing her hands to her open mouth.

"What.." she started, then stopped. Her mouth opened and closed with lack of the right words. Taking a deep breath, she started again. "What happened?" she asked shakily.

Loki turned to her, his eyes heavy. "I had a headache."

Ara breathed in again. She considered this for a moment, and then shook her head, glaring at him. "You had a headache, so you broke my bathroom mirror?"

"I..." Loki turned back towards the shattered glass. He raised his pale hand, staring at it blankly. "My reflection. I smashed it."

Ara shook her head again, not really wanting an explanation. She folded her arms across her chest. "What the hell, Loki! I leave you alone for less than two hours and you can't help but make a mess."

He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking totally lost. "I'm sorry. I don't... I don't know what came over me."

Ara sighed, disappearing into the kitchen to grab some brooms. "Here," she said, throwing Loki one. "Help me clean this up before you hurt yourself any further." she glanced at his bloody knuckles. "And rinse off your hand, too."

Loki grimaced and nodded. "I'm really sorry, Ara. I thought..." He furrowed his brow. "I think your craziness might be rubbing off on me," he said finally.

Ara waved her hands, not even bothering to get angry at his comment. "I don't want to hear it. Just help me clean this up."

Loki fell into silence, grabbing the broom. Between the two of them, the broken glass was gathered into bags within the hour. Ara regarded Loki with wariness, the mistrust returning. He wouldn't look her in the eye. The quiet between them intensified, the tension icy with her cool glares.

"Okay," she said finally, unable to stand the silence. "Stop being so quiet."

Loki looked up from his bag. "What do you want me to say?" he asked softly.

"I... I don't know."

There was a pause as the two of them stared at each other.

After a moment, Ara let out a deep breath and threw down her broom. "Fine then. I'll ask you a question. And you answer it." She couldn't keep the nastiness out of her voice. "What the hell happened?"

Loki rubbed his fingers against his forehead. "I... I really don't know, Ara. I lost control."

"Lost control." Ara laughed snidely. "Lost control?! Bullshit, Loki. You tell me what happened or you get out of my apartment. And I mean it this time."

He stared at her, his eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "Look," he said after a moment, trying to sort out his words. "I had a headache. I came into the washroom to splash my face with water, I looked in the mirror and my reflection turned blue. I smashed it because I was angry."

Ara raised an eyebrow. "Angry about what?" As an afterthought, she muttered, "Your reflection turned _blue_?"

"I don't know!" Loki suddenly shouted, throwing down the broom. "I was angry about something, and I smashed your goddamn mirror! My reflection turned blue because I'm a freaking Frost Giant, I can't stand being one so I lose control!"

Ara stepped back at his outburst, suddenly angry herself. "You're going to have to make a hell of a lot more sense than that, Loki!" She let out a frustrated groan, rubbing her hands along her face. Breathe in, breathe out. Eventually she looked up, not quite trusting herself to keep calm. "Okay," she said evenly. "You need to come clean with me. First off, just explain to me, what's a Frost Giant?"

Loki shook his head, and picked up the broom. He ran his fingers through his hair, searching for the right words. "Look," he said finally, turning to her. "The reason I'm on Earth is because I tried to kill myself."He paused, blinking up at the ceiling. "I realized I was something that I shouldn't have ever been, so I did something bad and then I killed myself."

He sat down on the edge of the bathtub. "Except I'm not dead. I'm alive, on Earth, and I have no clue how to get back to Asgard, and I don't want to go back either, because everyone I ever cared about either thinks I'm dead or doesn't care. And I think I need you."

Ara blinked, slowly absorbing his words. Things suddenly made a lot more sense, but now new questions had arisen. She refrained from asking them, instead saying calmly, "Me? What about me?"

"When you leave, I think I go crazy," he said bluntly. "I don't know why. But when you get too far away, my head begins to pound and then I lose it."

"You still haven't told me exactly what a Frost Giant is," Ara said, trying to comprehend everything else he had said.

"A Frost Giant," Loki said, getting up from the bathtub, "Is a blue monster with red eyes that lives in cold environments." He chuckled, sounding insane. "And they're the enemies of Asgard." He turned to her, smiling wryly. "I'm an Asgardian," he said, pointing to himself. "Except I'm not. Biologically, I'm a Frost Giant. I'm really the enemy."

Ara opened her mouth and shut it again. "You aren't from Asgard? You're not... you're not Asgardian?"

"I don't know, Ara," Loki said, sounding slightly more stable. "I was born and raised in Asgard. I grew up thinking I was Asgardian. But it was all a lie." He traced his finger along the edge of the sink. "By birthright, I'm the rightful King of Jotunheim, the land of the Frost Giants, because I killed my father, their king. But by my other birthright, by my being raised as a royal Asgardian, I was the rightful King of Asgard. Neither wants me, because in truth, I'm neither."

Ara blinked, finally understanding. "To both, you are still the enemy," she said softly.

He smiled sadly in response.

"I have so many more questions for you, Loki," she murmured. "But you're forgiven. I'll go get a new mirror tomorrow."

He looked at her with slight disbelief. "You're not kicking me out?"

She blinked and smiled down at the ground. "Look, I don't deny that bad stuff has happened to me, but what happened to you..." she hoisted herself away from the bathroom door. "It sounds way worse. And it's not something I'm going to question. I've had enough of my own hallucinations, and I'm not going to kick you out just because you thought you saw something in my mirror."

Loki grinned thankfully. "Thank you, Ara."

"Hey, people have to cope with bad things. I paint scary pictures and you smash mirrors."

Loki laughed shakily. "If you say so. But it won't happen again."

Ara snorted. "I doubt that. When I first started hallucinating, I couldn't just tell myself to stop. You might be a God, but don't try and tell me you can just control your own personal issues. We're only human."

"Well," Loki started, stepping out of the bathroom. "I'm not, actually. But whatever you say."

Ara rolled her eyes. "Just don't smash the mirror in _my_ bathroom. I need something to do my make up in."


	6. Equal

A/N: Hi guys! I've been surprising myself with the amount of writing I can while on vacation. So far I've written about a chapter per day. Yippee. Anywhoo, I'm sorry for the excessive amount of dialogue in this chapter. But still, enjoy! :P

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

The next day at breakfast Ara kept her eye on Loki, slightly worried. He had circles under his eyes that hadn't been there the day before, and he still seemed slightly unstable. Ara feared he might be having a breakdown after whatever had happened to him on Asgard. It was clear that he still hadn't recovered, and Ara worried that the worst was yet to come. It was strange suddenly knowing so much about him. His confessions had awakened a new sense her, the need to protect him.

She took him with her to go find a new bathroom mirror after lunch, afraid to leave him alone in her apartment again. He came without protest, remaining quiet throughout the whole morning. Ara bit her lip, wanting to get him to talk again, but she wasn't sure if she'd used up her 'two questions' in their argument the night before.

The night came quick. Ara's new job ran from six to ten o'clock. It didn't actually start until the weekend, another few days, so the evening was quiet. Loki stayed out of her way once they came home, letting her paint by herself, whereas before he would be drawn to the art studio like a magnet. Ara didn't bother him either, wondering how much it would take before they were back on stable terms again. She felt as if Loki was more shaken with his outburst than she had been.

The good-nights were short and quiet. Ara headed off to bed, looking back at Loki's room with concern. Telling herself there was nothing she could do, she ordered herself to sleep. She fell into a dream-like haze, in and out of sleep for the first few hours of the night, feeling feverishly hot and then cold.

Ara finally awoke to the dark, knowing she wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep. Water dripped from her window; it had rained earlier. The drip-drop was the only sound other than the white noise of traffic in the background. Ara blinked at the ceiling, the dark silence of her room almost intimidating. Suddenly uncomfortable, she swept her legs off the edge of the bed, stuffing her feet into her slippers, and shuffled to her bedroom door. She pushed it open and peered out into the hall. Loki's door, across from hers, was open, and she could see there was no one on the bed inside.

Panicking slightly, Ara stepped out to the kitchen, peering around the corner. It was mostly dark, and hard to see. Her kitchen window was propped open, and Loki was sitting in a kitchen chair he had pulled over underneath the window, staring out into the night sky. Ara hoisted herself around the corner, relief at seeing him flooding her.

"Hello," Loki murmured, without looking up.

Ara smiled at the ground, knowing he had probably spied her standing there before she'd even seen him. "Hey," she said softly. "What are you doing out here?"

Loki turned to her, his eyes shining in the dark. "Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same," Ara said, pulling over a chair to sit next to him beneath the window. "It was too hot."

"Hmm," Loki smiled, turning back to the window. Ara settled into her chair, sitting cross-legged with her feet off the ground. They both stared out at the night city, the silence stretching between them.

"Are you okay?" Ara asked after a moment, gazing at him with worry.

Loki looked down, rubbing his hands together. "I don't know, Ara. There are so many things I suddenly don't know."

Ara said nothing.

"How do you deal with them?" he asked suddenly. His eyes stared into hers, almost pleading.

"Deal with what?" Ara mumbled.

"You know," he said tiredly, and in the moonlight Ara could see the desperation in his eyes.

Ara did know. He meant the nightmares that still haunted her now, even though she'd started taking her pills over three years ago. "I don't, Loki," she sighed, turning to the window. "I paint them. I paint them and then I cry because I don't have the willpower to stop. I paint and I paint and I paint, but they still come back and there's nothing I can do."

Loki stared at her silently.

"I have years and years of horrible dreams in that room, Loki," she said, still gazing out at the city. "Every single one." She remembered how they used to plague her at night; she'd awake from one and then fall into another, an endless cycle as the night wore on. She glanced at him. "Why did you _really_ come out here?"

Loki smiled wryly. "I come out here all the time, Ara. Almost every night since I got here. It's just the first time you've noticed."

"Oh," Ara said. He smiled again and then turned back towards the window. Below them, cars zoomed by on the roads, their headlights cutting through the dark. Down the hill you could see downtown, bright and alight with activity even during the latest hour of the night. The city lights washed out the stars, so demanding and bright you couldn't help but stare. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Ara murmured.

"It is," Loki sighed, turning to her. "Everyone down there, with their own busy lives, completely oblivious to us staring at them from your window." The corners of his lips lifted just slightly. "They never stop. It all just keeps going, on and on. More cars, more people, never pausing to notice us... never pausing to notice _anything_ around them."

Ara glanced at him, his face half draped in shadows. "You could make them notice, if you wanted, couldn't you?" she asked, shifting in her chair. He shrugged, and she continued, "You're a God. You can control people's minds. I bet you can do more, probably much more that you haven't bothered to tell me. You could..." she paused, thinking. "You could do whatever you wanted, on Earth."

Loki wrinkled his nose, frowning. "Maybe," he sighed. "But here's the thing. People don't _want_ to notice. Look at them. They don't want to have to pause, to take a break and see. I could _make_ them, but it doesn't change the fact that they still don't want to."

Ara blinked, not sure if they were just talking about the city outside of her window or something much bigger. They fell into silence again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Talk about what?" Loki said, not looking at her.

"Whatever has been bothering you," Ara shrugged. He turned and eyed her warily.

"I'm just so unsure," he said after a moment. "About who I am, who I was. I should be dead. I should be, but I'm not." He was quiet again.

"What exactly made you suicidal?" Ara asked, staring at him intently. "I still don't really understand what happened." She paused. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I hated it when people made me talk."

"There was a war." Loki interrupted, not meeting her eyes. "There was a war between the Frost Giants and Asgard, around the time I was born. The Asgardians ended up stealing the Frost Giant's power source." He looked down in his lap. "But the power source wasn't the only thing they stole."

Ara waited, but he didn't continue. She furrowed her brow, thinking. "They stole _you_." she said, understanding. "They took you." When he still didn't reply, she added, "They took you and raised you as a royal and you grew up thinking that someday you might be king."

Loki sighed. "Odin, the king of Asgard, the man whom I thought was my father, he found me and he took me. And he raised me as his son. As Thor's brother."

"Tell me about Thor," Ara said without thinking. Loki glanced at her.

"We're done with no personal questions, aren't we?"

Ara grinned. "Yes. I'm too curious."

Loki laughed quietly. "Thor," he said after a moment, "Is Odin's true son. The 'true' heir to the throne, because they certainly couldn't have me as their ruler." He blinked bitterly. "A Frost Giant, on the throne. Can you imagine?" He continued without waiting for her to answer. "Thor was stronger, larger, better. He came to Earth, you know. Landed somewhere in America. A while ago."

"No, I didn't know," Ara smiled. "They keep a lot of things secret from us in this country."

"I was king, while he was gone," Loki said, a far away look in his eyes. "I, even for that brief time, was what I never should have been. For that short moment, I was what Thor had always meant to be. I was his equal. And you know what I did with that power?" He glanced at her, his eyes suddenly cruel. "I tried to kill him."

"You tried to kill your brother?" Ara wasn't exactly shocked, since she didn't know what kind of terms their relationship had been based on. She had no right to judge him, as he had told her earlier.

Loki gave a slightly malicious smile. "He's not my brother. But yes. However, Thor, all powerful Thor, wouldn't be killed." he turned to look at her. "A lot of things happened. I tried to kill a lot of people, and Thor stopped me. It ended with me dangling off a broken bridge above an abyss. If anyone had ever gone down into that abyss, they never came back to tell us about it. So I let go, because with Thor back, I realized I wouldn't ever be his equal. I tried, but it didn't matter. Right from the minute he was born, Thor was always going to be better than me." Finished, he blinked out at the sky, his green eyes not meeting hers.

"You don't want to try and go back?" Ara asked quietly. "You don't want to try and fix whatever mess you made with Thor and Odin?"

"No," Loki said decidedly. "It doesn't matter if they forgive me, Ara. Thor will still be better. There is nothing I can do. He is better by birthright."

Ara frowned. "Why does it kill you so much? That he might be better than you?"

"It's not a _might_, Ara. He_ is_. And it kills me because..." Loki paused. "I don't know. I don't know, but I do know I'm not going back."

"So what do you plan to do?" Ara asked gently. "Stay on Earth forever?"

"No," Loki grinned. "I'm not staying on this ball of dirt. I'm finding a way off of here, and then you'll be free of me." He turned and smiled at her. "If I don't go crazy."

"Right," Ara sighed, remembering. "Have you figured that out yet? Why you can't get too far away from me?"

"I don't think it's really you, Ara," he reassured her. "It's all in my head. I know, because when I smashed the mirror, I didn't really turn into a Frost Giant. My fist was still pale when I hit it, even though the glass showed blue skin." He held up his hand. "It's in my head. I believe that whatever 'craziness' overtakes me when you leave is just in my head too. I just don't know how to stop myself from getting like that when you're gone."

"So I have nothing to do with it?" Ara asked after a moment. "You think you're just imagining it all?"

Loki shrugged. "I don't get sick, Ara. I _don't_ get headaches. But I _can_ imagine that I've gotten one."

Ara let out a breath. "Well, if you do leave our 'ball of dirt', do you know where you're going? Or are you just going to wing it? See where you end up?"

Loki smiled. "Probably wing it. I'm unsure about everything right now, Ara. I'll sort it out." He glanced back at the city. "There will be someplace where I belong. Not here, perhaps, and not Asgard, but somewhere, there is a place that will accept me."

Ara smiled softly, getting up from her chair. "Whatever you say." When he didn't reply, she added, "I believe it, Loki. You've lived, what? Hundreds of thousands of years? And I'm sure you've got hundreds of thousands left to figure this out."

Loki looked up at her. "I don't doubt that, Ara. Give me another thousand years and it'll just feel like a blip in my existence. It just hurts right now, I guess."

"Bad things hurt," Ara grunted as she moved the chair back to the table. "Even an intimidating God like you has to admit that."

"Are you going back to sleep?" Loki asked as she moved the chair, changing the subject.

"Yup," Ara said. Done with the chair, she turned around to walk back towards her room, the slippers making squeaking noises against the tiled kitchen ground. Pausing, she looked back to his silhouette, dark against the bright city lights in the window. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Loki said from the dark. "It might take a while, but I'll be fine."

Ara smiled. "Okay. Well, goodnight. I'll see you in the morning." She left him at the window, staring wistfully out at the beautiful bright city below.


	7. Bad Dreams

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but here's Chapter 7! I was going to post it last night but my dad was hogging the laptop that we'd brought on our trip -.-. But I'm finally back home, so hopefully that won't happen again. :P

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

Ara spent the entire next day painting. As soon as she'd finished breakfast, she felt that familiar urge, opened the door to her studio, and found that she didn't have the heart to leave. Loki joined her sometime around lunch, after she failed to show up to eat. He watched as she swirled the colors on her palette, her fingers leaving trails of color along the edge of it. She wasn't really sure what she was going to end up painting, only that she had to. She had pulled out a huge canvas, probably the largest size she owned. It rested against her easel, the first smear of black already coating parts of it.

The first image that appeared on her canvas was Loki himself, his face blank of feeling and his arms outstretched. Ara stared at it, unsure where her mind was going with this one. The way his face was slightly turned away, his eyes peering up made her pause. Suddenly she knew exactly what she was going to do. When she put her paintbrush to the canvas again, she heard Loki shift behind her, walking up so he could see the painting more closely.

Next Thor appeared, looking down at Loki, his mouth open with terror. She didn't really know what Thor looked like, but she painted him as Loki described: big and strong.

"He has blonde hair," Loki murmured when she began on Thor's face. "And blue eyes."

Soon enough, the painting was complete, a monster of an image, Loki and Thor dangling off a broken bridge. Loki's green cape was swirling around him, covering most of his body. One hand was at his side, wavering in the breeze, the other next to Thor's, just slightly open so you could see he had just let go. Pink, greens and purples of the galaxies had opened from the black beneath the two of them, a starry sky lighting their faces.

"Interesting," Loki said, when she was finally done. "It does look like him. Thor, I mean. It's strange, you've never seen him before, but somehow you captured him perfectly. That's not exactly how _it _happened, but Thor... that's him." He didn't further comment on his own appearance in her painting, or what the scene depicted.

"Yes, well," Ara started, lifting the paint shirt over her head, "I don't know what I'm going to do with this now."

"It's like... your other paintings. The ones of your nightmares."

"What do you mean by that?" Ara asked, stepping back to look at her work.

"I don't know. It has that... fullness to it. Your scenery paintings don't have that, only your freaky ones. But this one has that too, even though it's not grisly."

Ara frowned, examining her painting. "It's weird, too, because I got that feeling that I have before I paint something terrible. Like I won't be calm until it's done. Like I have to paint something or I'll explode."

"Is that how you get after you've had a nightmare?" Loki asked quietly.

"Yah, pretty much. I wake up and I have to paint what I've dreamt. All of my terrible paintings are things I've seen in my nightmares, some time or another."

"Then maybe what you painted _is_ a nightmare," he said. "It has that look to it."

"I've never dreamed about you falling off a bridge, Loki," Ara said, shaking her head.

"Yes, I know," he answered, turning for the door. "But I have." He disappeared out of the studio, leaving Ara alone to stare at her huge painting.

The next few days passed without incident. Ara painted a few more images of Loki and Thor, all of them scenes she'd never heard about, but all ones Loki had experienced himself. She went to her new job on the weekend, deciding to bring Loki along. He stood silently in the bar for her four hours, saying nothing to other people, although everyone seemed to be looking at him. Ara felt bad for dragging him along, but she couldn't very well leave him alone again. She had no idea what he might do. Since the mirror incident, nothing else had really happened, but Ara wasn't going to take any chances.

Four days passed in that fashion, Ara taking Loki to the bar with her, him watching others getting drunk but refusing drink anything of his own, and her continuous paintings of him and Thor. Her first night off, Ara was relieved, and she could tell Loki was too.

It was her first night going to bed before eleven o'clock in a while, so she took advantage of it, calling it a day at only nine. Loki had said he was staying up a bit later, and she didn't wait to see when he'd get to bed. Once settled in bed, she fell asleep pretty quickly. It was a cool night, a slight breeze wafting through her window, and Ara was happy to relax.

A loud yell from nearby woke her up sometime in the middle of the night. Ara turned on her side, checking her clock. It was about one in the morning. She listened, wondering what she'd heard. There was silence, and then a thud and a crash from across the hall.

Loki.

Ara hurried from bed, opening her door and glancing into the hallway. She reached for his door, pushing it in.

Loki was trying to regain his balance against the bedroom wall, mumbling curses, and Ara's old bookshelf was lying on the ground. "Sorry," he muttered when she stepped inside. "I didn't mean to do that."

Ara peered in, thankful he wasn't hurt. "It's okay. I never really used that thing, anyway." She helped him right the bookshelf back against the wall. Once they were done, Loki let out a sigh and sat on his bed, running his hands over his face.

"Bad dreams?" Ara asked after a moment, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Hmm," was Loki's reply.

"Hey, it's fine," Ara said, sitting down on his bed beside him. For once he was wearing a shirt, gray and tight against his chest.

"I know," Loki sighed. "But I woke you up. And I don't think they're going to stop anytime soon." He glanced at her and smiled weakly. "Sorry I'm being such a nuisance."

"As I said, it's fine," Ara reassured him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. The tension in his muscles was palpable, strained and taut against his t-shirt. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Loki sighed. "I just wish they would stop."

Ara blinked. "Maybe I can help," she murmured, and began to work her fingers around his shoulder muscles, trying to massage to tension out from his body. At first he froze, turning to her, not sure what to make of her touch, but she felt him slowly relax, the muscles going slack beneath her fingers. When she was done, she let her fingers trail down his arm, resting over his hand.

Loki watched her silently, meeting her eyes as their hands met. There was something in his gaze, the way his eyes burned when they stared into hers that made her need to turn away. She jerked her head around, moving her arm away from his. "Sorry," she whispered hoarsely. He took his hand back, resting it behind him.

"It's alright," Loki smiled. "It felt good."

Ara glanced at him, unsure. "Really?"

"Sure," Loki said, leaning his head back. "You didn't have to stop."

Ara stared, wondering if her really meant it. "Fine then," she said, raising her chin. "Turn around."

He turned his head towards her. "What?"

"I said turn around."

Loki raised his eyebrows, but turned anyways, allowing her to place her hands over both his shoulders. She began to massage them, working her way around his neck.

"I used to do this for my ex when he came back from a long day at work," Ara said, up on her knees because he was so tall. "He would always be complaining, and this always calmed him down."

"Hmm," Loki said. "I can see why." He let out a loud breath, completely relaxing beneath her fingers. There was a comfortable silence. After a while, he said, "I was bleeding."

"What?" Ara asked, jerking up at his voice.

Loki chuckled, and gently removed her hands, turning back to face her. "In my dream. I was bleeding."

"So you _do_ want to talk about it," Ara smiled, resting back on her haunches.

"You're going to be painting tomorrow, if I tell you."

"What do you mean?" Ara frowned.

"Haven't you noticed, Ara? You don't just paint _your_ nightmares. You paint mine, too. That's where all those ones with Thor and I are coming from." He looked up, breathing out towards the ceiling. "I don't know how. But every single one you've drawn, they've all been in my dreams." He glanced at her, frowning. "And the weird thing is, I feel better after you've done them."

"Hmm," Ara mumbled. "I always feel better after I've done them, too." She looked up. "That's...weird. But if it's going to help you, go ahead and tell me."

He sighed. "I was bleeding. I was tied to a post, and there was something cutting me, continuously, over and over and over, until I was completely covered in bloody red cuts." He glanced at Ara, checking to see her reaction. "I thought it was one of the palace guards, back form Asgard, but I couldn't tell because his face was covered. I kept begging for him to stop, but whoever it was ignored me. Finally, when I was drenched in my own blood, the person removed his hood." He stopped, breathing in.

Ara cocked her head, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed, looking down. "It was Thor." Ara blinked, and could see that Loki's eyes were slightly shiny. "He stood back and laughed, and told me he was draining all the evil blood out of me." He paused, tracing circles on the bed sheet. "And then I woke up."

"Evil blood?" Ara asked quietly. She thought for a moment. "You mean your Frost Giant blood?"

Loki shook his head, refusing to look up. "I don't know, because it never happened. It was just a dream."

Ara leaned forward, her eyes staring worriedly into his. "You're still not content with what you are, aren't you? That's why you keep having these..." she paused, thinking of the mirror incident, "...thoughts. Because you think being a Frost Giant is something terrible."

"Of course I think that," Loki said flatly.

"Look," Ara sighed, turning to face him fully. "Do you still believe you're the same person? The same Asgardian Prince, the same Loki that you were before?"

"I don't_ know, _Ara," Loki snapped. "Why does it matter?" he added, as a mutter.

"Because it was the most important thing I learned," Ara said gently. She reached for his hand again. "Before my mother's first boyfriend, I was different. Still happy. She hadn't become quite a total drunkard, and I still had a relatively normal life. I was outgoing, with so many friends..." Ara paused, looking away. "That was before. Before everything. Everything that changed me. And by the time I'd run away, I _wasn't the same person._" She looked at Loki meaningfully. "I could pretend, but I was not the same girl that loved to talk, that was happy and free. I wasn't, Loki. And it took me a while to realize that."

"I know I'm not the _same_," Loki interrupted. "I already know that."

"Yes," Ara agreed, "but once I did know, it was more than just _knowing_. I had to grieve for the person that I once was in order to move on. And my grieving came in the form of depression. But at least now I know who I am."

She placed a finger under Loki's chin, bringing his face up to look at her. "You aren't you who were, Loki. You never will be. That person is gone. It's time to move on. And you have to _accept_ that. You can't just know it."

He sighed, taking her hand away from his face. "I can't just tell myself to accept it," he said. "I hate what I really am, Ara. I've hated _them_ my entire life. Why should I start loving them just because I'm one?"

"I don't know," Ara said quietly. "I don't know what it's like to discover you're something you hate. But you have to find a way."

Loki sighed again, burying his face in his hands. Ara grimaced, hating seeing him in such a fragile state. She placed her arm around his shoulders, his unmoving body still beneath it.

"Why are you trying to help me?" Loki asked from beneath his hands. "Your debt is probably more than paid off. Why are you bothering to get to know me? To help?"

Ara shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't really plan to. But I'm not going to let you have to deal with all this pain on your own. You're still a person. It would be cruel to ask you to leave after all you've been through."

Loki didn't question this, instead leaning inward in her arms. Ara paused, not sure what was happening, but then rested her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"Thank you," he murmured after a moment.

Ara turned her face towards his neck, breathing in lightly. "You're very welcome."


	8. Up in Smoke

A/N: So sorry I missed another day guys, but here's chapter eight. I was out all last night and just... ugh. I didn't have time. Anyway, here it is.

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

"Ara! Ara, wake up!"

Ara turned drowsily on her side, opening her eyes just barely, her room coming blurrily into focus. She blinked a couple times, stretching out her arms. Rubbing her eyes, she slipped on her slippers, sitting up. She yawned and stood, using the bed for support. Outside, someone was pounding loudly on her door.

"Alright, alright," she mumbled, shuffling over to unlock it.

"Ara!" the voice continued. Ara opened up, and Loki met her eyes. His face was in sheer panic, his eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" she yawned. "Gosh, it's like five in the morning."

"We have to get out of here," Loki interrupted, grabbing her arm. "Come on!"

Ara cried out, jerked out of her sleepy state. "Slow down, Loki!" He ignored her, running down the hallway, practically dragging Ara by the arm with him. She stumbled out into the kitchen, still blinking away sleep. The apartment door was open. "What are you doing?" she shouted, trying to get him to stop.

"Ara, don't you smell it?!" He asked, matching her in volume.

"Smell what?" she protested.

"Look!" He paused impatiently, pointing towards her ceiling. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings, and followed his finger to where he was pointing. Her smoke detector was going off, the red light beeping insistently. Ara blinked, furrowing her brow, and turned her head. Through the apartment door, she could see smoke wafting down the hallway, the smell heavy in the air, the tendrils entering her home. Heat hung like a wall around the walls, coming with the smoke. Ara stared, momentarily in shock. And then it hit her.

The building was on fire.

"Oh my god," she whispered, horror overtaking her.

"Exactly," Loki hissed. "Come on! We have to get of here!"

Ara wrenched herself away, suddenly fully awake. She blinked rapidly, trying to register what was happening. "Wait!" she called out. "My paintings!" She opened and closed her mouth, trying to sort out what she was going to say. Loki was still pulling her towards her apartment door. "Wait!" she shouted again, panicking. "Loki, I have to get the paintings!"

"Leave them!" he grabbed her arm again, dragging her out the door.

"You don't understand!" Ara screamed, trying to get back into her apartment. "I need them! They'll burn!"

"You'll get yourself killed, Ara!" Loki insisted. "The fire will eat you alive. Come on, the fire escape is right there!" He coughed, waving away some smoke.

Ara felt tears seeping into her eyes, whether from the smoke or her situation. "I can't, Loki! I'd rather burn with them than leave without them!" She blinked desperately. "I thought you understood!" He shook his head impatiently, reaching for her again. At his touch she began to kick wildly, struggling against his grip.

"I won't let you, Ara," Loki said, his eyes pleading. He tightened his hand on her arm, pulling her more forcibly down the hallway. A cloud of smoke suddenly billowed from down the hall, sending Ara into a coughing fit, her eyes stinging. She doubled over, collapsing, her hands scraping her ground, heaving with the smoke scratchy against her throat. She felt Loki reach down beneath her, lifting her into his arms. Gasping, she tried to push him away, but she couldn't see through the smoke and he was stronger than she was.

"No!" she screamed, reaching back towards her apartment. "No!" the tears began to seep down her face. "Stop, please..." her voice began to crack, and another cloud of smoke covered her face, making her cough again. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling Loki begin down the fire escape. She coughed again, burying her head in his chest, almost unable to breath. "No..." Her voice was raspy and weak.

They reached the ground and Loki set her gently against the earth, across the street from the apartment building. Finally free from the invasive smoke, Ara let out a gasping breath, opening her mouth. She coughed dryly, bile building in the back of her throat. She breathed out, then in, her fingers curling against the pavement. Gently prying her eyes open, she looked up. Everything was bright, loud and overwhelming. Things buzzed in and out of focus, her tears mixing with snot as she sat herself up. Ara could make out a fire truck and sirens, blurrily spinning around her. Loki sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She found herself welcoming, almost needing his touch, and she leaned in towards him, sobbing quietly.

"I'm sorry," Loki murmured against her forehead. "But you would have died."

"I know," Ara barely whispered, choking again on tears and smoke. Loki helped her up as she turned away to cough again, unable to get the stuff out of her system. When she was finished, she glanced up at the apartment building, wiping the tears from her eyes. Smoke plumed from the structure, reaching up in a dark cloud towards the sky, flames licking out the windows. Ara slowly stood up, her head spinning. The other tenants were nearby, staring in shock up and the building. Shouts from the firemen echoed around her, sirens wailing all around. Ara wavered, feeling slightly faint.

Loki placed his hands on her shoulders and she clutched at them, trying to keep her grip on reality. She turned to him, slipping into his arms again.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, holding her. "You ingested quite a bit of smoke."

"I'm fine," she mumbled into his chest. The tears began to seep out from her eyes again, and Ara squeezed them shut, trying to wrap her head around the enormity of what was occurring. "How is this happening?" she whispered.

"I think it's almost over," Loki told her, leaning his head back. "Nobody was hurt. Everyone got out in time."

Ara breathed in, peering up at him. "What started it?" she asked, her voice raspy, the dryness rubbing against her throat.

"I don't know," Loki murmured. Ara let out a breathy sigh, not moving from his arms.

Ara wasn't sure how long she stood like that as Loki held her, but eventually the sirens stopped and someone came over, tapping Loki on the shoulder. He gently let go of her, setting her against the curb so her could talk to whoever had needed him. Ara let him go, feeling tired. She refused to look back at the building, instead wiping her face and running her hands through her hair.

Ara glanced down at herself, still numb with shock. Her slippers must have slipped off her feet when Loki was carrying her, and she was dressed in nothing but an old t-shirt and boxer shorts. Ara wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly shivering, her mind in overdrive as she stared down at the ground.

She couldn't stop thinking about the paintings.

They had been more than just paint on canvas. Ara had always known that. Once she painted a nightmare, it was over. It had been transferred from her head onto canvas, and it was stuck in the layers of paint for as long as she could see them. She'd told Loki she hadn't burned them because she wanted to be honest with herself, but it was more than that. It was almost as if once the paintings were gone, her nightmares were set free, no longer locked in swirls of color, back in the air, ready to infiltrate her mind again. Already Ara could feel panic overtaking her, the bad dreams from so long ago poking at her mind, waiting for her to fall asleep so they could once again rule. She let out a sharp yelp, clawing at her skull, feeling those nightmares seeping back into her mind like little grains of sand.

And then it was over, and Ara suddenly realized how crazy she looked. She glanced around, seeing the tenants staring at her, and buried her face in her hands. "They were just paintings," Ara whispered to herself, blinking away tears. "Calm down." She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, rubbing her hands over her face.

After a while Ara decided to give her brain something to do, and set herself to sorting out her situation. Where was she going to go now? The only living relative she knew of was her mother, whom she hadn't talked to, let alone seen in over five years. All her close friends had drifted away as soon as she was diagnosed, and she wasn't sure if many of them even remembered her anymore. Ara had insurance, but not enough for the amount of damage that had been surely inflicted. Where was she to go until the apartment was liveable again, if it ever was? And what about Loki?

Ara leaned her head back. She should probably go find him, she decided, and shakily got to her feet, twisting her hair over her fingers. She glanced around, everything seeming too bright, and spotted him standing next to an official-looking guy. Ara began to walk over, testing her feet first to make sure she could still support her weight. She was totally barefoot, and the ground was cold and bumpy beneath her feet.

"Hey," she whispered hoarsely when she reached Loki. He slipped his arm around her absentmindedly, and she leaned her head towards him, sighing. The man he'd been talking to now turned to her, his face emotionless.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice bored.

"This is Ara," Loki said, before Ara could say anything. "The one I was living with." Ara blinked at her name, straightening up, suddenly alert.

"Right," the man nodded. "You were the owner of apartment 3A?" he asked, looking pointedly at Ara.

"Um, yes," Ara nodded.

"Miss, do you have any useful information? Like what could have caused the fire?"

"No," Ara said, rubbing her raw throat. "Loki woke me up. I didn't even realize what was happening." She shifted, wondering if he was planning on fully interrogating her.

"Did you know Mr. Martin Jones? He owned the apartment that we believed the fire originated in."

"Only slightly," Ara said, shrugging. She rubbed her eyes, still itchy from smoke. "He lived down the hall from me. I saw him occasionally, but I didn't know him well."

The man nodded again. "Alright then." He turned, glancing towards the building.

"Is it… is it over yet?" Ara hesitated, trying to get the man's attention again.

"Oh, they believe so," he said, turning towards her. "The flames have been put out. They're searching again for any people."

Ara dared herself to look back at the apartment, and slowly turned her head, reluctantly staring back at the burning building. Above her, firemen were on the escapes, calling out indistinctly.

"We might have to bring you in for more questioning later," the man continued. "And we'll let you know when your building is enterable. You can come by the fire department for a fire report, once we're finished here. But for now, I suggest you call any important people and let them know of your situation so that you may find a place to stay for the night. If there's no one available, you can call your local disaster relief service." He handed her a slip of paper. "This is the phone number for the Red Cross. They might be able to find you a place to stay." Ara took the paper, her hands shaky. The man gave her a curt nod. "The premises of this building will be closed off until further notice." He turned on his heel, walking away.

Ara sighed, rubbing the paper between her fingers. "What was he saying to you?" she asked, turning to Loki.

"Just what he said to you," Loki said, still seeming distracted. "We're going to need to find a place to stay," he added, turning to her.

Ara nodded unwillingly. "My cell-phone was up in my bedroom." She glanced up to see part of the building's roof had collapsed in, black and crumbled. "We might have to find a phone booth," she mumbled.

"Right," Loki said. "Can I have the slip of paper?" She handed it to him and he grabbed her hand, knowing she was going to need it. "Come on," he said gently, turning his focus onto her. "We'll take this step by step. Let's call this place, see if they have a place for us."

"Us?" Ara asked, looking up at him. "It was _my_ apartment, not yours. Why are _you_ so concerned all of a sudden?" She blinked, not sure where this was coming from, but couldn't stop herself from continuing. "This was my home Loki, not yours. _My_ life. _My_ world, until you dropped from the sky." Ara stepped back, realizing she was angry. "And they were _my_ paintings!" She stopped and bit her lip, staring at the ground.

Loki was silent. Finally, Ara looked up again, sighing. "You don't need to help me, Loki," she said more evenly. "You don't. I know you could find somewhere else, _someone_ else without a burnt down apartment."

"Are you asking me to leave?" Loki said, his arms folded.

"No…" Ara began. "I…I just…" she opened her mouth in frustration, not sure what she was trying to say. "I'm confused," she said finally, and her voice cracked. She felt tears begin to run down her face. The anger built inside her, and she felt herself losing control. "I lost my home, my life, everything I've ever known." She pointed back towards the building. "That's what I did for a living, Loki!" she shouted, knowing he already knew. "That was my _life_! But now it's not. It's gone. What am I supposed to do now?" Now the tears began to really flow, down her face it rivers. She stared at Loki through the blurry film, her shoulders shaking. "What am I supposed to do?" she whispered again, and brought her hands to her face.

Loki didn't move. He just stared at her quietly, waiting as she cried.

"I don't want you to leave," Ara whispered, realizing it as she said it. "I don't, Loki. I'm sorry." She looked down, wiping her eyes. She felt him shift and gently place his hands on her shoulders. "I don't know what I want," she mumbled. "I just don't know."

"Ara," Loki murmured. "Ara, look at me." He gently placed his fingers beneath her chin, raising her head so she met his eyes. "I'm not going to let you suffer through this alone." She stared at him, and he dropped his fingers to her shoulder. "Is that not what you said to me, just last night?"

Ara blinked, unsure. "I…I don't know."

Loki chuckled quietly. "Well, you did. I'm going to help you through this. And we're going to handle it just as I said. One step at a time." He gently encircled her, holding her against him. "Alright?"

Ara closed her eyes and let out a quiet breath. "Alright."

She felt him smile against her forehead. "Let's go find a telephone booth, then."


	9. Starting Over

A/N: Yay another chapter! I kind of wrote this in one shot without stopping, so if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes I'm sorry... :D

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

By the end of the day, Ara and Loki had been given a vacant hotel room. Ara was too tired to even care that it was only one room for the two of them, and she was asleep on one of the two beds within ten minutes. The day had been exhausting. There had been a lot of paperwork to sign, a lot of forms to read, and Ara was spent.

The next morning she awoke from a nightmare in which she was strapped to a white bed while paint slowly dripped into her mouth, her eyes, her nose, until everything was just paint. Ara wasn't exactly surprised that she'd been awoken from a bad dream, but she was still shaken, and woke covered in cold sweat. She shifted her head to the side, just enough to see Loki's motionless figure in the bed next to her. Ara closed her eyes in thanks that she hadn't roused him and let out the quietest sigh she could muster.

Realizing she was never going to get back to sleep, Ara swiftly got out of bed, trying to make as little noise possible so as to not wake Loki. Her clothes had been left in her apartment, whether burned or not, but Loki and her had gone out to find some suitable things to wear the day before. Grabbing whatever she saw first in the hotel drawer, Ara crept into the bathroom, uncomfortable changing in front of Loki, even if he was asleep.

The bathroom lights flickered and buzzed before turning on, casting Ara in an unearthly green light. Ara blinked into the mirror, wondering almost sarcastically who she really was.

Once changed, she peered back out into the darkened room, squinting her eyes to see the digital clock in between the two beds. Six thirty a.m. Ara turned back to Loki's still figure, not sure if she should wake him up to tell him she was leaving.

Opting instead for a note, she dug around for a pen before scribbling a short message out on a pad she'd found in the hotel drawer. Trying to figure out where to put it so that Loki would see the note, Ara found herself needing to blink back tears for no reason.

"Where are you going?"

Ara turned. Loki had rolled over on his bed so he was facing her, his eyes bright and alert.

"To…to get breakfast," Ara rushed out, quickly swiping her fingers across her wet eyes. "I was hungry." She smiled weakly and sat down on the edge of his bed, dropping the pad. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"I've been awake for a while," Loki said, sitting up. "I just didn't get up because I didn't realize you were leaving." He glanced at her. "You do know the hotel's breakfast bar won't be open at this hour?"

"Oh, yah…" Ara mumbled. "I'll… get McDonald's or something."

She could feel his eyes sweeping worriedly over the top of her head. "Do you… want me to come with?" he asked finally, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position. Ara glanced up, watching as the blanket slid down over his bare chest.

"No, it's alright," Ara replied. "I mean, unless you want to come."

Loki watched her silently, his face blank. He seemed to think for a long moment before replying. "No, I'll try to get some more sleep," he finally said, his eyes still on her.

"Okay," Ara said, not sure why she felt suddenly self-conscious. "I'll… see you later." Loki nodded, slipping back beneath the covers, his face turned away from hers. Ara didn't move for a moment, watching him warily, her chest tightening.

Her truck had luckily been unharmed in the fire, and she'd been given it back the day before. Once down in the parking lot, she slipped into it, trying to remember where the nearest McDonald's was.

Ara felt herself slowly becoming more detached during the drive, her mind numb. Subconsciously, she knew that something bad had happened. She knew, but in truth, she didn't care. The prominence of the fire had diminished, and even though Ara _knew_ tragedy had occurred, she would not admit to herself it had. She'd done what she always did; threw all memories of the fire into the cellar of her mind, locked the key, and walked away. Even worse, Ara was perfectly aware that was what she'd just done. She simply didn't care enough to try and fix it. In fact, Ara felt almost happy- ignorantly happy, and she knew it. She knew this wasn't a good thing either, but once again, she _did not care_.

She ordered her food robotically; a smile plastered on her face, and drove back to the hotel in much to same fashion. Once back, she found Loki at the window, still shirtless, waiting for her return.

"Hey," she smiled cheerily, opening the hotel door. She held up her McDonald's bag. "Egg sandwich thing. I got an extra for you."

Loki eyed her; his brow furrowed, but took the sandwich anyway. "Thank you," he said cautiously, the tones of judgement rippling in his voice. Ara watched as he peeled the wrapper from the food, not sure how to take his reply. When he didn't say anything further, she looked away, displeasure rooting itself in her mind.

She grabbed a chair and sat, movements harsh and decisive, and pulled out her own sandwich. She knew he was watching her with discernment. For some reason this angered her, so she purposely and brusquely ignored him, staring out the window. Silence stretched between them as they ate. After a long, strained few minutes, she felt him shift beside her, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

"Ara-" he started. Ara's cell phone cut him off abruptly and she turned away, shaking off his fingers.

"Hello?" she asked, still not meeting his gaze. Her phone was a temporary cheap one, since her old one had probably burned. "Yes, okay," she said after a few moments. "I can meet you in about an hour." With that, she hung up, keeping her face turned away from Loki.

She stood up from her chair, busying herself filling her temporary 'purse', and searching the room for paperwork, stuffing things mindlessly into the bag.

"Property manager needs me," Ara said finally, turning back to Loki while jerking the bag up her arm. His gaze stopped her, his eyes filled with something that almost resembled disappointment. Ara paused and swallowed. "It's about an hour's drive. I need to get going," she finally continued, finding her voice. "I won't be back for a while." She grabbed her car keys from where she'd set them down only a moment earlier. "You'd best find something to do, other than sitting around waiting for me," she added, her voice snide.

Ara turned for the door, seeing his distaste at her every movement. _He has no right to judge me_, Ara thought angrily to herself as she reached the apartment door. He'd said so himself. The silence from him behind her was only further infuriating. She reached for the doorknob, feeling the fury ripple its way through her.

"Have fun," Loki quipped quietly behind her. Ara stopped at the door, hatred suddenly blooming behind her eyes.

"Fuck off," she muttered before opening it, slamming it with all her might.

Out in the hallway, Ara pressed her hands against the closed door, forcing herself to take a deep breath.

Well. That had escalated quickly. He had aggravated her so much, but the worst part was that Ara had no idea why. Somehow this only made their whole encounter further maddening. Since when could he make her so angry with just a few words and glances? Furthermore, why did she find it so enraging? He'd barely done much; probably hadn't even meant to anger her as much as he had. How could he just make her act like such a child? Ara blinked crossly, tears of frustration entering her eyes. She wasn't like this anymore. She'd pushed past the crazy emotional nightmarish stage of her recovery. Hadn't she?

Ara stomped down the hotel hallway, hoping everyone in every room could hear her.

The next day didn't go any better for Ara. After she'd finished her talk with the property manager the day before, she'd gone to the mall, solely because she didn't want to see Loki again. She'd window shopped and wandered the stores until she felt calm enough to maybe be able to deal with seeing his face. The rest of the evening within the hotel had passed in icy silence, Ara refusing to meet Loki's gaze.

The worst part of their whole dispute was that it wasn't _their_ dispute. It was purely Ara's. The whole fight was completely one-sided, and the fact that Loki refused to regard her with the same icy hatred only made her madder. He had started it, hadn't he?

So the next day was not any better, because she decided to continue to be a stubborn ass and not talk to him. Once again, subconsciously she knew she was being stupid, but she didn't care.

"Good night, Ara," Loki said that night. She was already in bed, the covers pulled up around her ears, her back to him. Ara tightened into a ball, refusing to answer. She heard the covers shift and the final light go out, plunging the room into dark.

That's when the tears came. Since the fire, Ara found herself tearing up in random places, like in line for fast food or on the phone with someone important. Usually she'd blink them away, annoyed with herself, but this time it didn't stop. They began as trickles, seeping from the corners of her eyes and dribbling down her nose. When Ara couldn't stop them, they continued, forming rivers down her face until her pillow was soaked. Her shoulders began to shake, and a small wailing sob choked itself out of her mouth. It hadn't happened since the first initial ten minutes after escaping the fire, but now she'd been reduced to it again; a sobbing, shaking mess.

"Ara?" Loki asked from beside her, his voice clearly alarmed.

Ara didn't move from beneath the covers, the tears still flowing down her face, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"Ara?" This time it came more panicked, and when Ara still didn't move, she heard Loki move from his bed. She was slightly aware of his arms, reaching down for her beneath the covers, gently lifting her out from beneath the piles of blankets. "Ara? What's wrong? What did I say?"

Ara laughed as he helped her up, but she was so drowned in tears that it came out as more of a squeak. "Nothing," she managed to say, wiping her face. "Nothing, you never said anything. I'm just an ass and can't except anything so I take it out on people like you." She laughed again shakily, her body wracked with quiet sobs.

Loki tenderly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a sitting position, and she sagged into his body, hiccuping as the tears slowed. He didn't say anything, and instead waited for her to continue talking.

"I can't freaking control my feelings," she said eventually, after the hiccups had stopped. "_Three years,_ Loki," she stressed, glancing up at him. "Three years on drugs and medication, and I can't do it." She closed her eyes tiredly, clasping her hands together in her lap. She was silent for a few minutes, letting the tears stop.

"My property manager told me I should look for a new place," Ara sighed after a while, knowing she had to tell him. "He said that the damage was too much. That it wasn't worth waiting it out, that I should just go start over somewhere new." Ara blinked, wiping away the dried tears. "Do you know how much I wanted to kill him?" she finally asked, looking up at Loki. "I can't just _start over_, Loki. That's not how it works."

"And why is that?" Loki asked quietly, looking down at her. "Why can't you start over?"

Ara didn't answer. She stared at the shadowy, blackened wall across from her, eyes still adjusting to the dark.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she murmured softly after a moment, her eyes sagging closed. "I was so close to recovery, Loki. The nightmares stopped. My scary paintings had finally stopped. I had a life. I was doing okay. I found a job." She opened her eyes again, blinking up at him. "I tried so hard, Loki," she sighed. "I climbed that mountain. _I tried so fucking hard_."

Ara turned, shifting so that she could bury her head in his chest. "I'm entitled to it, aren't I? A recovery? It's all I asked for. It's all I ever wanted." She kept her eyes closed, adding, "Why did this happen?" She felt Loki's arm tighten around her. "I was so close, and this damned fire just dragged me right back down. I can feel them starting again. The nightmares. The pain. Everything that I still look back on filled with dread. It's happening again." She fell silent, finished with her rant.

"I'm sorry," Loki murmured.

Ara laughed again. "You _saved_ my _life_, Loki. What are you apologizing for?"

"I don't know," Loki sighed. He pressed his cheek against the top of her head. "Everything. I feel like I have to."

Ara snorted.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Ara's eyes closing with fatigue.

"I wish I _could_ just start over," she said drowsily, keeping her face pressed against him. "I wish that my whole life could just be…restarted."

Loki stilled.

"I wish that I could be reborn as someone new." She peered up at him through half-closed eyes. "My whole life, Loki, all I've done is suffer through someone else's bullshit. Even if I wasn't dealing with it directly, I've just been trying to move past it. My whole life." She sighed, leaning back in towards him. "I'm so sorry for how I've been treating you. I know I'm an idiot."

"I forgive you," Loki whispered, holding her tighter. "Of course I do."

Ara laughed sleepily. "I was giving you this talk, just a few nights ago. I was the one trying to help you. Funny how fate can just switch things so easily, huh?"

Loki smiled against her. "I suppose so. Even I have no control over _fate_."

"They said the apartment is enterable now. We can go back and see if there's anything salvageable," Ara whispered, almost fully giving way to sleep. "Tomorrow."

"Okay," Loki said softly. His lips brushed ever so gently across her hair. "Okay."

Ara smiled, and let herself fall asleep in his arms.


	10. Destroyed

A/N: Okay guys, here's Chapter 10!

And here's the other thing. I start school in two days -.-. So... I thinks it's suddenly going to be a lot harder to post as often, as I also have extracurriculars and whatever starting as well. I'll try my best...but if I go a week without posting don't panic... it will get there. EVENTUALLY. You have to trust me on that. :P

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

Sunlight filtered through the hotel window, casting Ara in a golden glow. She stretched and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, feeling strangely full and rested, a sensation almost alien to her.

"Good morning," Loki said from the window, his back to hers.

"Hmm…" Ara sat up, yawning. Blinking sleepily, she added, "Good morning." She gently brushed aside the bed sheets, standing up. Tousling her hair, she walked lightly over to Loki. Reaching him, she let her fingers travel up over his shoulders and then down over his back, breathing in contentedly. She let her arms slip around his torso, her head on the center of his back. The movement felt so natural somehow, her body resting against his. "When did you wake up?" she murmured into his neck.

Loki turned gently towards her, disengaging her hands to wrap his arms across her back. "Long before you did," he smiled, letting out a sigh.

Ara leaned her head towards his chest, humming a reply. They rested for a moment before she stepped away, turning to the window. She sighed happily. "No bad dreams last night." She rubbed her fingers against the windowpane.

"That's good," Loki replied, reaching for the coffee pot. "You said something about seeing the apartment last night, by the way. I just was wondering what that was all about." He held up the full coffee pot. "I made some before you woke up. Want any?"

Ara laughed. "Of course." She grabbed a cup from the table beside her. "You always seem to think of these things. Anyways," she continued, pouring herself some coffee, "About the apartment. The fire department guy said that they were letting all the tenants back in today. We come in from one to four, and anything we find has to be approved by them before we take it home." She took a sip of her coffee. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten," Loki answered, and turned towards the window. "I let you sleep in."

Ara smiled. "Thanks." She lowered her coffee. "What do you say to some brunch before we go, then? It's too late for breakfast."

They went to a restaurant to eat at leisure, and Ara was glad for it. She wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing her apartment again. She still had no idea how bad the extent of the damage was, as she didn't have the heart to read the fire report. Loki had, but she'd asked him not to tell her what it had said. It still felt all too fast, everything happening right after the other- the fire, sorting out the damage, and now having to see it. Ara still wasn't sure if she could let herself accept what had happened- the events of the fire was blocked out in her mind, and she was perfectly content to keep it that way.

It was hard enough just trying to admit to herself the fire even occurred; it was even worse when she had to go back and face the consequences of it.

"Are you ready to go?" Loki asked once they had finished their meal.

"Mmm," Ara sighed, looking down at her lap. She found a loose thread on her shirt and began to play with it. "Good question, actually."

"Hey," he said gently, reaching for her hand. "You're going to have to go back eventually, aren't you?"

Ara gripped his fingers, hearing the concern in his voice. "Yah, I know. That doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it." She let out a breathy sigh, still not looking up. After a moment she stood up from her chair, grabbing her purse. "But I guess the sooner I go and get it over with, the sooner it's done." She glanced up, her mouth in a thin line, meeting Loki's gaze. "Come on." She pushed her chair in roughly, smiling grimly. "Let's do this."

The hotel they'd been placed in was only about ten minutes away from the apartment, so the drive was short. Ara gritted her teeth as they passed by the bar she had been working at, sighing. She'd told them she needed a week off work, and her boss hadn't been exactly happy, to say the least.

"Well," Ara said, pulling the gear into park as the reached the apartment. "Here we are." She took a deep breath in before opening the truck door, stepping determinedly onto the ground. Glancing up at the building, she had to take a step back. "Oh, god."

The smoke had stopped at least, but the exterior was still blackened and burnt, rubble still sitting in heaps around the ground. Yellow tape outlined the whole thing, marking it as dangerous, and, Ara thought, almost ominous.

Loki came up beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. He gave her a look, and she knew he was asking if she was okay. She nodded at him feebly, her heart suddenly fluttering. They turned towards the door, where a man was standing, wearing a suit.

"Do you want me to do the talking?" Loki whispered into her ear, as they began to walk towards him.

Ara gulped. "Yes please."

"Hello?" Loki asked when they reached him. "We are here to… see our apartment?"

"Yes, of course," the man smiled. "I'm George Walker, the property owner's insurance advisor." He took Loki's hand, shaking it.

"Loki," Loki answered. "And this is Ara."

The man nodded, and glanced up at the building above him. "You're the second group of tenants to arrive... the first group is still up there, so you'll have to wait for the guide to come back down. You're not allowed to go up there without a guide." He smiled apologetically. "You can just hang out down here until they're done."

"Of course, thank you," Loki nodded, taking Ara's hand. He cocked his head to the sidewalk. "Come on, let's go wait."

Ara, who felt as if she might've suddenly gone mute, followed him silently. They stood in quiet on the sidewalk as the insurance broker pulled out his cell phone, beginning to chatter away madly.

Ara reached for Loki as the minutes wore on, slipping easily into his arms. "What happens if I faint?" she whispered into his chest.

"I'll carry you out," he answered, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Just like last time."

She let out a little laugh, even though it wasn't very funny. "Okay." She glanced up at him meaningfully. "I trust you."

The first group of people finally appeared from the doorway, two young women. They were carrying a plastic bag filled with things, and were thanking the guide.

"Are you next?" The guide called to them. He looked around thirty, young and tall.

"Yes," Loki answered, and took Ara's hand.

"Which apartment?" he asked, waiting as they reached the door.

"3A," Loki said, and they entered the building.

"I'm John, by the way," the man said as they began up the stairs. "Two days ago you would've needed masks to breathe safely up here." He nodded towards up the stairs. "They've done an excellent job of cleaning it up."

Reaching Ara's floor, the guide continued talking. "This floor got hit the hardest. As you can see, we've been doing some temporary fixes." He motioned around to the building materials scattered across the hallway and the yellow tape covering a few of the apartment doors. "Those ones can't be entered. Luckily, your apartment seems safe." He led them to Ara's apartment door. "Now, you should be careful. Don't…make a mess."

Ara let out a shaky breath, turning to Loki. She heard the door open; squeezed her eyes shut, and let Loki lead her inside.

She opened her eyes slowly. Loki had stilled beside her, his arm reaching across her body.

All she could do was stare.

The apartment had burned, all right. The carpet had partly turned to ash and curled in, the coffee table and sofa blackened and almost unrecognizable. Where the TV had once stood, there was now an empty space.

"We had to take that out," the guide said, motioning to the empty space. "All the electrical things were disconnected, but the TV was too damaged to leave here."

Ara swallowed, and Loki tightened his grip around her. "You okay?" he murmured.

She nodded mutely.

"Anyway, I doubt you'll find anything salvageable in this room. We can go into the kitchen, now."

The kitchen wasn't a better story. The cutlery and some of the dishes had been spared, and Ara let Loki place them into the canvas bag they'd brought, as she didn't have the heart to do it. The whole thing felt like a dream- a very bad dream, at that, and Ara wanted to wake, as fast as she could.

The problem was that it wasn't a dream, and this fact rang dimly in her mind as the man led them through the rest of the apartment, insistent like a bug buzzing in the back of her mind.

There was _one_ room that Ara did want to see, and when they reached it, she felt Loki tense beside her, preparing for her reaction.

The art studio was the last room in the hall, and therefore it was the last one to be reached. The door was closed, and it seemed the door had survived the fire; it appeared the same, un-blackened and still standing. Ara felt herself oddly determined to see what waited for her inside the room, her mind going blank to anything else around her except the doorknob. The guide reached for it, pushing the door in, and they entered.

It was a disaster.

Now Loki went completely still next to her, awaiting her reaction. The room had not been burned, that much was clear, but all the same, everything was in ruin.

Ara blinked, her mouth parting slightly, feeling the overwhelming agony come over her in a huge wave. A scream ripped itself from her throat, and Ara wrenched herself from Loki's grasp, stumbling blindly into the wreck, ignoring the guide's awkward shouts behind her.

It hadn't burned, but they'd destroyed it. They'd destroyed everything. Of course, they'd hosed down the building, of course they had, and of course they'd soaked this room, her paintings, of course, of course, of course…

All that was left of her canvases was a soggy pile of color, the paint melted from the heat and then washed away from the water. Everything had been knocked over, the paintings that had lain against the walls, the ones once mounted on easels; the blackboard had fallen from where it had hung. Ara felt unable to breathe, the choking grief taking her in wild gasps, throwing her in relentless pain to the floor, screams leaving her throat again and again.

Loki had reached her, his hands reaching to pull her from where she'd fallen upon her knees, but she was blind to it all. Tears covered her eyes in filmy curtains, her feet crunching madly over some works of art that had fallen to the ground as Loki pulled her up. Swirls of color danced in front of her eyes, again and again she felt Loki whisper her name, but it didn't matter, none of it mattered, none, none, none…

"It's destroyed," she whispered, the screams having rubbed her throat raw. "Everything… everything's destroyed…"

Loki held her, gently murmuring things into her ear, but Ara didn't hear any of it. She felt the demons from her nightmares coming at her, suddenly insistent- now that she knew they were free, now that she _knew_, their return was fast and strong and hit her in a tidal wave so rapid she wanted to curl up on the floor and cry.

All the devils she'd ever painted into this room, all of them, they were suddenly back out in the air, suddenly waiting for her once again.

"Everything!" she shouted, and pounded her fists weakly against Loki's chest.

"No, not everything," he whispered, and this time it was enough to get her to raise her head.

"What?" she choked out, the tears running steadily down her face.

"Not everything is gone, Ara. Look." He turned her gently towards the middle of the room, and she saw it.

Her blood painting. The sheet that had covered it had fallen halfway off, but somehow, it was still standing, the beautiful terrified face staring at her from her table.

Ara almost tripped over her own feet to reach it, her face pressed against the bloody canvas, her sobs finally subsiding. It survived, and somehow, this calmed her more than Loki's words ever had. She removed the rest of the sheet, gently, slowly, until the rest of the gruesome thing was revealed. It wasn't gruesome to Ara, though. It never would be after this. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

The guide had stood in shock throughout her whole breakdown, and now she turned back to him, taking the painting in her arms.

"I think we're done," she said calmly, feeling the tears drying on her face.

Loki reached for her arm, unsure, and she let him wrap his fingers around her. The guide nodded, speechless, and slowly led them from the apartment. He didn't say anything as they reached the first floor, staying silent as they left the building.

The drive home was numbingly silent. Ara could feel how unsure Loki was, the tension that plagued the air between them, but she felt strangely calm. The painting had been placed in the back, the face turned away from them, but just its presence was enough to level Ara back out again.

Loki stopped her when they entered the hotel room, his hands holding her back firmly. She turned to him, her eyes weary, her whole body suddenly tired when she met his gaze.

His green eyes were burning with sadness, their whole ordeal at the apartment reflected in them. Ara swallowed slowly, and she leaned into him, let him wrap his fingers around the back of her head, pull her close.

And he let her reach up, lips parted, and kiss him every so softly on the mouth.

It wasn't fireworks. It wasn't explosions of amazingness, but it was what Ara needed.

He kissed her back.

He did.

They drew away, and Ara let her eyes flutter close, let herself revel in the perfection of what had just happened, let herself ignore everything wrong in her life and focus on this one moment of beauty.


	11. Free Fall

A/N: Guys, I am SO, SO sorry about how late this is. FIRST WEEK OF SCHOOL AND I AM FREAKING OUT. So sorry. Gah. I'm serious, I'm trying to update as much as I can but it's suddenly ten times harder with school. Sigh.

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

Loki was up before her the next morning, as usual. He was standing by the window again when she awoke, his back towards her. He'd peeled back the curtain on one side, and was standing bathed in golden sunlight, his head upturned.

He'd held her last night, when she'd begun to scream in her sleep. A nightmare had plagued her, one Ara didn't remember when he woke her, but she'd been screaming because of it. She didn't question it when he slid between her sheets, her back to his chest, and encircled her in his arms. She needed it, and in her sleepy state, she didn't care who was holding her. He held her until her hysterics stopped, until she lay quietly without movement, and until, finally, she fell asleep.

When Ara awoke the next morning he was by the window. She didn't know if he had left her as soon as she reached the land of the dreaming or if he'd spent the whole night with her in his arms, and she didn't particularly care.

Ara watched him quietly from her bed, his unmoving body standing just a few feet from hers. He didn't acknowledge her, although she knew he was aware of her eyes on him. After a moment Ara slid out of the bed, throwing aside the sheets, and tiptoed lightly towards him. He let out a small, breathy sigh when she slipped her arms around him, and leant every so slightly towards her.

They kissed again, and he let it happen. They both did.

"Are we going out today?" he asked when they drew apart.

"We don't have to, but I need to make a few phone calls," Ara answered. "Did you make any coffee?"

He nodded towards the table, leaning back against the window. Ara smiled, grabbing the pot and a cup. "Thanks," she added. He smiled wearily. Ara paused, feeling his tension suddenly escape into the air. She met his gaze and put the cup down, sighing. "I'm sorry 'bout how I reacted yesterday," she murmured, and reached out for his hand. "With the paintings."

He enfolded her into his arms at her touch, and exhaled lightly into her hair. "I was sort of expecting it," he said gently. "What are you going to do with that one you found?"

"I don't know," she answered, resting her cheek against his chest. "I'm going to make sure it stays safe, though."

She blinked and looked up at him, reaching up to gently cup his cheek with her fingers. He closed his eyes; letting his lips trail lightly down her forehead. Ara sighed gently, accepting his kiss.

"What are we now?" she murmured into his lips, her eyes closed. Loki leaned back, looking down at her.

"What do you mean?"

Ara opened her eyes and stared up at him. "What are we now? What is… this?" she gestured helplessly at his arms around her, at their bodies against each other's. "Something's changed… hasn't it?" She glanced down, and knew, suddenly, that it was true. Their kiss the night before had been an awakening call. It had clicked something inside her, and she didn't care if he felt it or not, it was still there. She didn't know what it meant but its presence was obvious, at least it her mind.

"I mean," she began, trying to but these thoughts into words, "You were just… you were just a guy staying over at first. There was none of…this." She opened her mouth and closed it, looking for the right words. She felt Loki's arms fall in something like slight surprise, and she stepped back from them. The words felt foreign in her mouth and she turned away, leaning against the coffee table.

"Does 'this' have to have a label?" Loki asked quietly. "Do you need it to be called something?"

"No, that's not…what I meant," Ara sighed. She turned to her bed and sat down upon the sheets, running her fingers through her hair. "I just want to know what to expect," she said finally, meeting his eyes. "Where this is going. Is it just some fling, or does it mean anything? I want…" she looked down again. What? A love confession? "I don't know what I want."

Loki leaned back against the window, folding his arms over his chest. "You want to know if this is serious."

"Well, I guess so," Ara agreed uncertainly. "I'm not going to ask you to tell your feelings for me or anything." she glanced down. "I'm not even sure what _my_ feelings are, right now. But I just… want to know if I _should_ be feeling anything. Because-" she stopped, and met his eyes. They were smouldering. "Because you're going to have to leave." She blinked, realizing this was what she had been trying to say. "I know you will. You told me, you _are_ going to."

Loki bobbed his head in some sort of nod. "Do you _want_ to feel something?" he asked. "Does it really matter if I leave? If we're not sure what this is? If you want to feel something, than _feel _it. Why are you asking my permission?" He stared at her silently for a moment, and then pushed himself off the window, bringing his weight back to his feet. "I'm not going to tell you how to feel, Ara." He tapped his fingers against his leg. "I'm not going to tell myself to feel a certain way, either."

"I'm just not even sure if you mean anything you've said to me," Ara sighed. "You could be playing me, for all I know. You could've planned for me to start feeling this way about you, for some strange purpose-" She stopped, seeing his face, and held up her hands in exasperation. "-I don't know!"

Loki chuckled. "Why do you say all that?"

Ara gave him a look, her eyebrows raised. "You're the God of Mischief, Loki. Am I supposed to trust you?"

He laughed again. "Look, Ara," he said after a moment, and sat down beside her on the bed. "I never planned for any of this to happen, that much I can guarantee you. I never wanted to get sentimental about anything on this planet. I never even planned to come to this planet." He turned to her, meeting her gaze. "I'm supposed to be dead, remember?"

Ara smiled half-heartedly, and he placed a hand gently against her cheek, touching, but just barely. "I don't know where this is going either, so you shouldn't ask me. I have not the slightest clue." He let his fingers trail down and rest on her shoulder. "It's true that I will leave." He glanced down for a moment. "I think I might be getting closer to a way out of here, actually."

Ara cocked her head. "You never told me that."

"Yes, well, I'm still not sure. But I've been doing some… research during all those hours you left me alone." He smiled. "I am aware that I will leave, Ara, but I'm not going to stop whatever 'this' is because of it." He paused. "That's probably not the best idea, seeing as if this goes any further I might end up breaking your heart when I have to leave."

Ara laughed, and placed her hand over his. "Don't flatter yourself."

He smiled. "Then that's my answer. I'm just going to see where this goes." A playful look entered his eyes. "I'm finding this kind of amusing, anyhow."

Ara raised an eyebrow. "Fine then. Then I'll try not to get too close to you, for now." She drew away, sticking out her tongue. "Heart breaker."

Loki laughed. "That's Mr. Heart Breaker to you." He stood up, and held out his hand. Ara took it, smiling, and let him lead her to the window again. "So," he added, reaching for the coffee pot. "Breakfast?"

The days passed with easing comfort; everything, for the first while in some time, seemed to fit. Ara finally got around to looking for a new apartment, and although choices were slim, there were still choices. She got a new sketchbook, and although it was torture, began to draw again, because she knew she needed to. Things were not exactly perfect, but Ara felt as if she might now have a handle on her situation.

Sorting out her feelings was hard, and so Ara tried not to dwell on it. She knew she cared about Loki. She held this with her, reluctantly telling it to herself when they touched, when they kissed.

A week passed, and she realized it was more then just caring. She admitted to herself that she might even love him, and somewhere, she met this admission with an almost expectant sigh.

There was a difference between loving someone and being _in _love with someone, and Ara couldn't bring herself to say she was in love. She wasn't sure if she ever really had been. They'd barely known each other for two months, and she knew well enough that relationships took time. She didn't want to, but she let herself love, because holding back her passions had always been something Ara couldn't do.

Loki was a different story, but Ara was half-afraid to find out his actual feelings for her. She felt, in some way, that he cared about her. She didn't ask him, and he never told her, but Ara knew he cared. Love, however, was something entirely different. Loki had had his heart broken by more than one person, Ara could see, and she knew it would take a while for him to be able to love again. If he did love her, which Ara somehow doubted, he never told.

This calm period rested on a delicate balance, and they both knew it. Loki never told her he was close to leaving, but Ara knew. She could see it in his eyes. The problem with their relationship was like an elephant in the room, but they both chose, as an unspoken rule, to ignore it. He would leave, and Ara accepted that. She knew that their even caring about each other should be automatically aborted because of this, but she couldn't bring herself to stop caring.

It wasn't like it was a choice, anyway.

Talking about things wasn't an option. If they talked, everything would be ruined. If they talked, Ara feared, this whole content-ish feeling would come crashing down.

If Ara wanted to be completely honest with herself, she would admit that everything about their relationship scared her. It hurt to think we would leave, but it only confused her when she tried to decide if she wanted to do something about it. Ara had loved like this before, she knew how to love and she knew what it was, but it still terrified her. Love was like free falling into nothing. You didn't know what was waiting for you, whether it was more love, which was preferable, or heartbreak. Ara had felt enough of the latter.

Ara accepted that she'd already taken that free fall. She was well in over her head, and that both puzzled her and horrified her. She wasn't sure when she had taken this fall, when it had begun or where it was going to end. Not knowing was the worst of it, but the fact was that Ara didn't want to know. At the very least, she didn't want to try and find out.

"You wouldn't last without me," Loki told her one day. "And I can't leave without knowing that you will be all right." He wouldn't meet her eyes as he said it. "I'm still not quite sure about leaving, anyhow."

Ara stood back, watching him not watching her.

"I'm getting close," he admitted, turning to her. "Very close, Ara. But-" he planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head, "- But I won't leave until I know that you'll be okay."

Ara hated to admit it to herself, but he was right. In the midst of her crisis, he was her anchor. He was what she needed to get by, to move on, and if he left she wasn't sure what would happen to her.

The nightmares came back, regularly, like clockwork. With the same ticking expectancy, Loki would hold her each night when she began to get restless. He would wake her from some hellish nightmare and hold her until she stilled and slept. It felt almost cruel, this nightly routine, since it didn't stop Ara from still having to experience each and every nightmare, but Loki wouldn't hold her unless she was getting hysterical.

She never remembered her dreams when she woke, though. She remembered him, but everything before that was a blank.

Ara began to work again, and without question, Loki came with her to the bar. Not because she was afraid of the mess he might make without her in the hotel room, but because she was afraid of the mess _she_ might make without him in the bar.

It was the strangest thing; that now Ara was in a wreck, Loki was fine. As far as Ara could see, his nightmares had stopped completely. They had switched roles so easily; it was now him saving her from her nightly visions instead of her helping him. Ara accepted it reluctantly, knowing she wouldn't last a night without his arms around his. Without him it would be too easy to fall back into her bouts of depression and cutting. She had her blood painting back, but she certainly didn't want to finish it.

Almost a month passed in this fashion, and Ara found a new apartment. They were moved in by the next week. Ara wasn't sure if her new home marked a fresh beginning for her, marked her as perhaps recovered from the fire. It was true that over the month the nightmares had grown less grisly, not as terrifying when she awoke, as if she was getting used to them or even recovering. If she was all right, which she wasn't sure of yet, it meant Loki would leave her, and it scared her that he might leave. She felt pathetic and needy, but she couldn't deny she didn't want him to leave. He stayed with her though, and Ara wasn't sure if this meant she wasn't recovered or if he cared about her enough to stay anyway.

They didn't have any discussions on the terms of their relationship, still balancing dangerously on the unspoken rule to not talk. Ara felt that by not talking she was holding off a storm sure to come, but she accepted this. If a storm was coming, which she was almost certain was, it could be the end of whatever Loki and she had, and she didn't want to bring it on early.

All the same, she felt him leaving. If he'd ever loved her, and he never told her he had, she felt it ebbing away, slowly but surely. For the first few days she felt this she told herself it was paranoia, it was just her being scared, but after a week she was sure of it.

He was so close to going, like a beautiful morning sunrise it was just beyond his private, pink-streaked horizon, and when the sun arose, he would leave her, floating off like a dream you tried so hard to remember but just wouldn't come back.


	12. An Idea

A/N: Hey guys! I'm pretty sure this is super super late, but at least it's here! Ugh.

It was, perhaps, Ara's insistent paranoia that caused the slow breakdown within her. She didn't know it was happening inside her until she came home and it convinced her that she was making a mistake.

They'd moved into the new apartment almost a month ago. It was smaller, yes, but it was good enough for Ara. It had been a long night at the bar, and she and Loki arrived home, exhausted. She dropped her purse and walked up to the living room window, letting out a tired breath. The view from the new apartment didn't showcase a beautiful city like her old one, in fact it didn't really showcase anything except for the apartment parking lot, but Ara stared out just as intently.

She felt Loki's arms around her, and suddenly something was wrong. Perhaps it was the exhaustion or recent lack of sleep, but something in his movement, in this gesture, was just… not right.

_He's going to leave,_ she heard echoing in her mind, a constant mantra. It'd been ringing in Ara's mind like a buzzing fly for the past two weeks or so, and still she hadn't shook it, but now it came back stronger than ever. It seemed to pound in her head… he was going to leave. He was. What was she doing? Why did she love him if he was leaving?

Ara let out a grimace and pulled Loki's arms away from her, stepping in the opposite direction. She put a hand to her forehead. _He was going to leave._

"Ara?" Loki didn't try to reach for her again, but he stepped around to stand in front of her. "What's wrong?"

Ara bit her lip and looked up. His eyebrows were knit with worry and she grimaced again, the burning whisper of _he's going to leave _going of like a fire alarm in her mind. She shouldn't say it. They'd already agreed not to talk about this, but the urge to say something built until she couldn't help but spit out the words.

"I think," she started, not quite disbelieving that her own voice was uttering it, "I think we have to stop this."

He froze, and an expression similar to the one he bore when she had first kicked him out fell over his face. He blinked, not understanding, and took a step back. "Pardon?" he asked, and he sounded so confused that Ara winced.

"I just… this isn't going anywhere, is it?" she asked, and her voice was hoarse. Loki stared at her silently, and she hurried on, not meeting his eyes. "I just realized, but this whole thing, it's just… it's just…" she waved her hands around, searching. "It's just stupid," she said dumbly. "We should end it. Now."

"Stupid?" Loki asked, and this time in was not confusion his voice portrayed but numbness, an almost sad tone ringing through the word. "You think that 'this' is stupid," he said again. Ara didn't reply and he shook his head, opening his mouth in a slight laugh. Ara felt her boldness weaken at the edges and she wavered. She wanted to say something to defend herself but nothing came, and she simply swallowed. "What brought this on?" Loki asked, and Ara could hear the nastiness creeping into his voice. "Did I do something?"

"No," Ara said quickly, not wanting him to think that. "Not at all. I just… I think it's bad for me. For the both of us." She blinked pleadingly. "I'm just using common sense, Loki! This isn't going to go anywhere!"

"So what?" he asked, increasing his volume to meet hers. "I should just stop? How do you think I could do that, Ara? If you ever meant to stop this you should have said so at the beginning! It's been three months. Three months since I met you, Ara, and we've spent two of those with 'this.' I don't care how much two months is to you, but it's much too far for me, Ara. Especially after all I've done for you!"

Ara looked away, feeling tears creep into her eyes. "I know, I know," she whispered, squeezing them tight. "But I can't keep doing this, Loki. I can't!"

"Doing what?" Loki demanded. "Loving me? You can't go on loving me?"

Now tears began to stride down her face. "Please listen to me, Loki," she insisted, her voice hollow. "I do love you. Don't doubt that, please. But we both know that you are going to leave. And I don't care what I said during our first talk, but this has gone too far. I never meant… I never meant…" she paused, unable to say the words.

"You never meant to fall _in_ love with me?" Loki finished for her.

Ara squeezed her eyes even tighter, and tears fell to her lap. "I…"

"You are, aren't you?" he asked quietly, and his voice held the same seductive danger that he'd used when first controlling Mr. Bishop. It had scared Ara then, and it scared her now, but she refused to answer his question.

Loki leaned back, his mouth curling into a snide smile. "You're afraid," he stated simply, and Ara deflated slightly, because he was right. "You don't care about how I feel," he began again, "Because you're just afraid to get your heart broken." He folded his arms across his chest. "You think you might be in love with me, and you know I'm going to leave, and so now you're being selfish and cutting this off."

Ara had begun to shake her head a while back, but now she shook it harder. "No, no, not at all," she whispered, her breathing irregular. She opened her eyes and met his, which were staring at her with harsh distaste. She took a breath. "I don't mean it that way," she insisted. "I just want to stop this. It… it won't hurt you." She blinked a few times and clenched her fists. "You don't love me anyway." It came out soft, and as soon as she said it Loki raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You've never said it," Ara continued quietly, the tears suddenly gone. "How can you?"

Loki shifted, his features softening slightly, and leaned slightly back towards her. Ara shook her head and waved him away. At once his eyes grew dark again and he backed down. Ara swallowed, wringing her hands, felt his eyes on her again.

"You're right, Loki," she admitted, finding her voice. She glanced up at him. "You're right about everything, really. Of course I'm afraid. I don't want to fall in love, because I know it makes me vulnerable. And I'm already vulnerable enough as it is. I don't know what it'll do to me once you leave, and that really scares me, because if I crash and burn again I know I won't be able to get up." Ara sighed. She didn't know before right this moment that she wanted to get this off her chest, but now she'd said it and she was glad. "I think if you leave right now, I might be okay. But if I fall any further for you, if I really love you, when you leave I won't be okay. I'll be far from okay." She paused. "I don't _want_ you to leave. But I really don't. But I think I might need you to."

Loki stayed silent, tightening and loosening his fist, waiting patiently for her to continue talking.

"Look," Ara said, and made sure his eyes were on her. "I didn't realize I needed to say this until now. But really, I don't know why it would hurt you so much if I told you to leave. You're close to leaving. You could just go and forget about me. You don't need me." She looked down, wondering if she'd brought the hammer down on their relationship.

"Is that what you think?"

At once Ara glanced up again. Loki's eyes hadn't left her, and they were burning now. "What?" Ara asked, unsure.

"Is that what you think?" he said again, and his voice was quiet, almost hurt. "That I don't need you? That I could just forget about you?"

Ara blinked and wrinkled her brow. "Well… yes." She paused. "I mean, as you said, you've known me for three months. _Only _three months. I must just be a blip in your hundreds of thousands of years of existence."

Loki let out a barking laugh. "Thor fell in love with a mortal here on Earth in less than a week. Time doesn't go any faster for me, Ara. I just have more of it." He turned away and placed his hands on the windowsill behind them. He was silent for a moment, and looked away before speaking. "You're wrong, by the way. I do need you. And you can say whatever you want to that, but I do." Ara felt her breath hitch for a moment and he his head towards her, awaiting her reaction.

"But you're fine," she said, but now she wasn't quite sure why she was still arguing. "You haven't had any hallucinations, you aren't freaking out, and you're nightmares have all but stopped-"

Loki interrupted her with another harsh laugh. "My nightmares have stopped?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Don't assume things." He turned back towards the window. "Because you're wrong again. They haven't."

Ara let out a tired sigh and let her head drop foreword, their whole conversation making her increasingly exhausted. "I don't even know what we're arguing about any more, Loki. I love you, I do, but I just want this to stop." A weak sobbing noise came from her and she let herself slide back against the wall into a little heap on the ground. She buried her head between her knees, dry of tears but extremely tired.

There was quiet above her for a moment, just the ticking of the clock before Loki slid down to meet her. She wouldn't meet his eyes, but she felt his presence beside her, his body solid against hers.

There was another lapse of quiet before Loki gently took her shoulders. This time Ara didn't wave him away, and she let him turn her towards him and embrace her.

"Look at me, Ara," Loki whispered. Ara didn't move for a moment, too fatigued to even try to shift. She felt his breath, gentle against her skin, and finally she glanced up, meeting his eyes. He raised his fingers to gently brush back her hair and she stared back desolately. "If we could be together, would you want to?" Loki asked after a while. "If I wasn't a God or an immortal, would you want to pursue this? Answer me honestly. Please."

"Of course," Ara answered without hesitation. "I don't doubt my love for you, not in the slightest, but I just doubt that you love me back enough to-"

He interrupted her with a gentle kiss, and Ara accepted in begrudgingly, allowing herself to slip down into his embrace. "Then listen to me," he continued when they parted. "Listen well."

Ara let out another sigh, but nodded her head.

"I do need you. You think that I could just leave, but I can't, Ara. You've helped me more than you know and probably more than I will ever tell you. I _can't _just leave. Not now. Not…" he hesitated for a moment. "Not without you," he finished quietly.

"But you have to leave without me," Ara whispered. "I'm mortal. I'll die."

He was silent for a moment, knotting his fingers together. After what felt like an eternity he slowly got up, so his knees where at Ara's eye level. She didn't stand up with him, instead staying on the ground and looking up at his face. It was unreadable, turned slightly away from her, his eyes shining. "You once told me," he began after a while, "That you wanted to start over." He turned to look down at her, and Ara blinked up at him quietly. "Do you remember that? It was one of our first nights at the hotel, and you were crying and you told me you wanted to start all over again. Remember?"

Ara did remember, actually, and her cheeks flushed slightly at the memory. It had been about two months ago but it was clear in her mind, her sobs as Loki held her and her wishes to begin again. She nodded her head in silence, wondering where he was going with this. "I might…" Loki stopped and turned back to the window. "I might be able to give that to you."

This got Ara's full attention and she snapped her head up, staring distrustfully up at him. "What?"

Loki continued without acknowledging her comment. "I know how to go back to Asgard, Ara. I've known for a while. It's not Asgard I wanted to go back to, it never was, but if I get there I can then go anywhere I would like." He smiled. "It's much easier to go places from Asgard than Earth."

"What are you offering?" Ara interrupted, and stood up. "What do you mean by you can 'give that to me?' You can go to Asgard. So what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting," Loki said patiently, ignoring the hostility in her voice, "that you come with me."

Ara's first reaction was to laugh. The laughter came so suddenly, and it wasn't even that funny, but she couldn't stop. She laughed until she was cramping and had to sit down again, leaning against the table next to her. "Come with you to Asgard?" she managed to get out once the laughter had slightly died down. "Come with you to Asgard? Why the hell would I want to do that?"

Loki waited until she was silent again before answering. "Because," he said quietly, "You want to be with me. Did it never occur to you that you might come with me when I left?"

Ara laughed again. "No, it never did. Of course I want to be with you, we've already established that, but come with you? How could I ever do that? I'd be dead before you even reach 25! Great lot of good that would do me, spending what little time I have left on some fantastical world, knowing I'd die before anyone else-"

Loki shook his head. "But we could make you immortal, Ara. On Asgard. If you wanted."

At this Ara stilled.

It took a while for what he implied to register. Become immortal? Once Ara realized what this meant, she let out a little gasp and turned away, her mind running a million miles per minute.

He really meant _starting over_.

Loki interrupted her train of thought, adding, "I know it's a big idea. I kind of just threw this on you-"

"I'll come with you!" Ara burst out before he could continue. "I'm coming. With you. To Asgard." The surety in her voice was undeniable, and even Ara herself didn't know where it came from. It was there, however, and she meant every word of what she had said.


	13. No Going Back

A/N: Hey guys. This chapter's kind of short, so sorry about that... I was busy with things, as usual. Sigh.

Disclaimer: Loki does not belong to me. Although I wish he did. :)

"We should leave as soon as possible," Ara added, hopping up beside him. She leaned against the windowsill. "Right away."

Loki eyed her, his face unreadable, and stepped back. Ara turned to face him, and she could feel the excitement rising within her. How long had she just wanted to have a new start? Much, much too long. She wasn't sure how she had wanted Loki to react, but by the looks of it, he didn't seem as happy with her decision as hers. The traces of anger were still alight in his eyes, but it wasn't just that. He gazed at her with almost disapproval.

"What?" she asked after a moment.

"You don't even know how it works," Loki finally said, and his voice definitely sounded reserved. He was holding back something. "You don't know how we get there. You don't know how people turn. You don't know what you have to do once you become immortal. You don't know the rules, the risks, or anything." His face darkened, and Ara could fully see his discontent. "But you're so eager to join me." He turned to the window, his face away from hers. "Perhaps this wasn't the right decision, to suggest this to you."

"What do you mean?" Ara asked, hearing the doubt and not sure how to take his unhappiness. It made her feel slightly hostile and defensive, and she crossed her arms. "It was the perfect decision. We can be together; I can leave this shitty life of mine behind forever. It'll be absolutely perfect! None of… this is going to be awkward any more. I won't have to worry. You won't have to worry. And I can finally start over-"

Loki interrupted her, reaching for her arm. "Ara, no." He steadied her, and his face was gentle, the earlier anger disappearing from his face. "You need to stop. You aren't thinking this through at all."

"I've thought about it all I need to," Ara said stubbornly, raising her chin. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Loki said again. "No, you aren't coming with me unless I let you." He spoke to her slowly, as if talking to a child. Ara stared at him in frustration, and he tugged at her arm, turning her towards the table. "Come on," he said quietly when she didn't move, and led her over to the couch, sitting her down beside him. "You don't need a new start," he said gently. "That was what I said, but you really don't. Look at how well you're doing. New apartment, job, everything's fine. It wouldn't be fair of me to tear you away from all this. It would be selfish."

"You aren't tearing me away," Ara insisted impatiently. "I'm coming willingly." She shifted so she was facing him straight on.

"Ara, please, you need to think about this more," Loki chided. "Becoming an immortal is a very final decision. Once you make that decision, there's no going back. Even if you decide you want to come back to Earth someday, everything will be different… all the people you'd ever known would have died, the society wouldn't be the same…"

"I know," Ara said. "I know that already."

Loki sighed, looking down into his lap. "Maybe, but you won't realize that mistake until it's too late. I guarantee you." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, looking down at her softly. "I know it was me who suggested this, but it was just a suggestion. I hadn't really thought it through either, and there's no absolute that you'll make it to Asgard safely. So far I'd only figured out how to get there myself, not taking other people."

"You can figure that out," Ara murmured into his arm. "I know you can." She looked up at him, and she could see in his face that he agreed. She sighed, not understanding why this decision was so difficult. Was it not obvious that this was how it should be? Yet the doubt was clear on his face, the disapproval in her sudden decision. "Okay, maybe I didn't really mean it when I said we should leave right away," she relented. "If I think about it more, and I decide I still want to do it, you will take me, won't you?"

"It's one thing to come with me," Loki sighed. "It's another to become an immortal."

"Well, I'll think about that, too."

"I don't know," Loki said hesitantly. "It's not that I don't want you with me, Ara. It's just that…" he paused, looking away. "I just don't think it's the right decision, I really don't. You may think now that you're perfectly fine with leaving all this behind, but you have more than you realize. A whole life here that you're willing to throw out the door. And why? Just because I asked you to? It's not fair."

Ara considered, knowing, in a sense, that he was right. She was on her way to recovery, and things now were better than they ever had been before. But that was just because he was here, and without him, she would have nothing. _I'm willing to do anything, _she realized. _Anything for him. _Immediately the thought scared her, and she frowned. Did she just want to go because of him? If so, then this really was a stupid decision. She shouldn't be abandoning all just because of him. Especially when she didn't know how much he actually cared about her.

_No_, Ara thought. No, she wasn't just doing this for him. Perhaps if she were to start anew, as an immortal, she wouldn't need him any more. Of course, that was a bargain, but without the baggage of her life on Earth, she felt certain she would be strong enough on her own. Hell, he could take her there, turn her immortal, and leave her forever, and she'd be fine.

Loki was sitting quietly beside her, his free hand twisting at his side, his eyes bright with expectance. Ara said nothing.

_Was_ it worth it? To leave everything she had ever known behind? To become something she knew nothing about? Yes, yes, and yes. She was tired of the constant climb to recovery, and had been for too long. An opportunity to become a new person; she was taking it. Perhaps that was self-indulgent and a coward's choice, but Ara didn't care.

"So how does it work?" Ara asked after a moment. "Becoming immortal. Explain the process to me."

Loki hesitated for a moment. He paused, as if it wasn't worth telling her. But then he replied, "Food."

Ara furrowed her brow. "What?"

"We have golden apples," Loki said, and there was a smile playing on his lips. "We eat one every day, and they make us immortal."

Ara stared at him for a moment, her eyebrows raised. Seeing that he wasn't continuing, she paused. "Golden apples." He nodded, and Ara laughed. "You're not serious."

"No, I am," Loki said, and he grinned. "Kind of under whelming, no?"

Ara laughed again, but this time more hesitantly. "You're telling me all I have to do is eat one of these golden apples, and I'm immortal?" She was still half expecting for him to turn away, let out a chuckle, tell her a more time-consuming, painful procedure was to be taken, but he only nodded.

"Well, you'd have to eat one every day for basically the rest of your life, but yes. If you stop eating them you begin to age and things. That's how it works."

Ara sat back, impressed. "Well, that seems awfully easy." She paused, and then turned to him again. "Wait. I just realized something. You haven't been eating them, have you? Since you got here? We don't have golden apples on Earth…"

Loki smiled. "Yes, well…" He looked away, rocking his head back and forth.

"You're mortal right now," Ara said, the fact dawning on her. "You're mortal when you don't eat the apples, so you're mortal now!"

He was nodding. "Yes, well, that's one thing I didn't tell you." He grinned, looking a bit guilty. "I didn't think that was really important."

Ara laughed again. "I'm learning so many things about you." She paused. "So why did you still heal yourself, the first day? If you hadn't eaten the apples?"

"I had," Loki replied absentmindedly. "That morning."

Ara nodded. There was a moment of quiet and she looked away, growing serious again. "So why can't I do that? Just eat apples? It seems awfully easy."

Loki grimaced. "I know, but I just…"

Ara interrupted him, bouncing up on her knees, gripping his face between her fingers. "Why did you ask me in the first place, Loki? Why did you even consider letting me go?"

Loki's mouth parted slightly, and he blinked, gently curving his hands around her wrists, peeling her fingers from his face. "Because," he said gently, holding her hands loosely between his. He looked down again, and frowned slightly before meeting her eyes. They searched hers before he continued. "Because I love you, Ara."

Ara was still for a moment, not sure how to take this information, but then felt the smile stretching across her face. She laughed quietly. "Now you tell me."

Loki reached around her, holding her in his arms. "And now you know."

Ara didn't reply, feeling a warm, happy feeling enter her. She smiled against his chest, and he let out a breathy sigh. All tension from their early argument temporarily left the air, and Ara knew right then an there with absolute certainty: she was in love. For a few moments the just sat like that, Ara content.

"Will you say it again?" she asked after a while, looking up at him. "Please?"

Loki laughed, his eyes dancing. "No, once a day is good enough for you." Ara pursed her lips, but she was still smiling.

There was another bout of silence. Finally, Loki let out a sigh and turned to face her, taking her hands between his. "I considered it because I love you," he said gently, "and I, too, am guilty of being selfish. I just wanted you to be with me…"

Ara stopped him. "Loki, everyone's selfish. Especially while in a relationship. You do realize that, don't you? How can you love someone without it? If you want this to happen, you're going to have to learn how to be selfish."

He looked down. "I suppose." He shifted his hands. "Besides, you need me."

Ara rubbed her fingers together, waiting for him to continue.

"Do you really want to come?" Loki asked, looking up. He stared at her with such intensity that Ara couldn't help but stare back, his eyes burning. "Because if you're absolutely certain, if you know that you will never want to return to this life, then I will allow you to come. But there's no coming back. You must realize that before you agree." The seriousness in his tone was rather unsettling, his solemnity in the matter, but Ara nodded anyway.

"I'm certain, Loki. I am."

Loki gazed at her for a moment longer, his hands still loosely wrapped around hers, and then he nodded. "Okay. I'm going to have to figure out how to bring you with me, but it will happen, if that's what you want." He stood up. "I'm going to bed. It's awfully late." He turned, letting go of her fingers, and started towards his bedroom. "Remember," he said, his back facing hers, "there's no going back, Ara. And if you end up regretting it, I have the right to say I told you so."

Ara looked down in her lap and smiled softly, waiting until she heard the sound of his bedroom door closing. She let her hand trail over the couch; it was old and rough beneath her fingers. She let out a sigh, tightening her fist and loosening it. "I'm crazy," she whispered to herself. "I'm absolutely crazy." She looked up in the direction of Loki's bedroom and laughed. "But we already established that, haven't we?" She got up, suddenly feeling as if she could conquer anything.


End file.
